Once upon a time Dunhaven Place was a humor blog (don’t ask me what’s funny about the phrase “Dunhaven Place” b/c I got nothing) but most of you know that already. Or, perhaps, I just assume you know that when all this time (you know, back when it was supposed to be funny) it wasn’t funny at all and the phrases “humor blog” and "my blog" went together only in my mind, er, dreams. (Or, quite possibly, wildest dreams.)

Yet, I know it was a humor blog because it offended people. When I started my blog, little did I realize that all humor involves the potential of offending someone. I merely wanted to showcase my “wit” in light of my novel that is full of, er, humor and wit (and where the only ones offended were imaginary people who couldn't possibly get mad at me). Yet, people (real ones!) felt offended by my words. Even when 99.99% of the time, the person being skewered was myself. Even when there was nothing I wrote when I was (trying to be) funny that was intended to offend or that I even realized might offend anyone other than me, myself and I.

That was quite the revelation to me and is one reason why I haven’t been writing with my tongue so firmly planted in my cheek as of late.

My question is this: Do comedians have any friends? Can Jerry Seinfeld manage to scrape up guests for dinner anymore? Did he have to hire actors to play his real-life friends for "Seinfeld" because the originals were bent out of shape and wouldn’t “read” well on the screen? (Larry David, is that why it took ten years to do the reunion show?) (As if Larry reads my blog.) (He used to but he got offended when I did a post on balding men who wear glasses.) Jerry did finally get married, presumably to someone he hadn’t know for a terribly long time. (Perhaps he decided he needed to populate the earth with one or two newbie humans who hadn’t heard any of his jokes.)

And then there’s Dave Barry. How I love you, Dave Barry! You can write all you want about anything and I’ll just laugh. Because, you know, I understand that it isn’t personal. It’s all just a joke! Sure, I’m brunette, which means roughly half of the jokes told in America simply don’t pertain to me but those who know me will tell you I’m really a blonde underneath all that brown and that I was called “airhead” by the guys in high school 100 times more often than I was called for a date (not that I'm calling blondes airheads . . . at least not any of the ones I know . . . or who are reading this . . . just saying . . . ). Besides, you mostly make fun of yourself which is refreshing. Still, I have to wonder if your in-laws think twice before coming to stay at your house and if your pals from high school conveniently ignore your requests to friend them on Facebook.

And what about Joel Stein, who, “On December 19, 2008,{wrote} a Los Angeles Times "tongue-in-cheek" column titled "How Jewish is Hollywood?" Stein expressed "mock outrage" at a recent Anti-Defamation League (ADL) poll showing that only 22% of Americans believe "the movie and television industries are pretty much run by Jews," which was down from nearly 50% in 1964”. (Thanks Wikipedia!) I have to admit, when I read the stated column, I fretted a bit about his social life even as I admired his wit and skill with turning a phrase. What would his Jewish friends think of his take on his Jewish world? Would they egg his house? Leave flaming poop on the doorstep? Nah! They understand. After all, the man is a humor columnist (a Jewish one). It’s how he earns his daily bread. The fact that he was actually making fun of himself should have lessened the blow. Right?

Apparently not. Apparently there were some who felt offended. Apparently his best friends cancelled their child’s playdate with the Stein baby. Apparently his parents phoned and demanded to know what he meant by those remarks. Apparently his wife refused to cook dinner or even bring home take out and he has been eating tuna out of a can he found in a 1950’s bomb shelter in the backyard ever since. (JK, Joel Stein. But you knew that.) (AND you thought it was funny and you laughed because you understand.)

The truth is, I used to be a bit sarcastic starting from a very young age. After all, everyone else was doing it and I thought I was being clever and cute. But then I realized I wasn’t (clever or cute or at least seen as such) and I stopped (yes, I did, even if you those of you who were there didn't notice). Years later, I thought it would be o.k. to be a bit sarcastic in my blog because everyone else was doing it and I thought it was clever and cute. And that people would understand. And that they would have a sense of humor.

Apparently not. (Joel, I’ll meet you out back with fork in hand. You bring the tuna.)

P.S. Proof that some people do have a sense of humor (where-in a British person linked to my (witty) post about British people). (Okay, so I can't find the link or even the blog of said person but you can read the post (click on "proof") and just know that some Brit linked to it. Honest.)

P.S.S. Photo by the Middle Child who has no idea I lifted her picture and am using it in this post. However, I did want to credit her since I would hate to offend anyone. Especially someone I live with and who has full access to my underwear drawer and, regrettably, my Facebook profile.

P.S.S.S. See my most recent post at Mormon Women: Who We Are HERE

Rare leprechaun sighting at Dunhaven Place

Great was our joy when a wee leprechaun appeared in front of our T.V. to wish us a Happy St. Patrick's Day. We were startled, to say the least, but were not too discombobulated that we didn't think to pull out the camera and record this magical event. Erin go bragh!

Yes, indeed, it is small and only holds a fraction of my total volumes but together with the books in my new(ish) fireplace mantle, it does create a smidgen, a soupcon, if you will, of the look I crave. There's nothing like moving your possessions to a new home to allow you to "see" them again. It's like buying something new for NO DINERO.

I also crave an "old" and authentic look to my house. I want to walk in and feel like it's been here for a very long time, (lived in by generations of people who took excellent care of it, naturally). (I said old, not falling down.) I particularly want an authentic looking Victorian kitchen and have been racking my brain (yet again--it doesn't work if I don't torture it) to think of an affordable solution for a backsplash behind the stove. In spite of the floral print, this plain painted wall does not scream "Authentically old, Victorian, well-maintained, not falling down kitchen".



Then, the other day, I re-discovered where I had hidden a Christmas gift (read: moola). (BTW, I highly recommend it. The finding, not the hiding, which is good but much more problematical than the finding.) So, I took my Christmas gift to the local hardware store and was delighted to find very affordable faux (read: authentically old Victorian but not as expensive as the real stuff) pressed tin tiles. It was easy-peasy to install. I also switched out the print for a tole tray which I have had forever and stopped "seeing" and now I have a lovely backsplash that even the Middle Child (read: jaded teenager) finds beautiful. Total cost: $39 (but actually free to me--see above)


A few months back, I ran into some photos of these gorgeous Easter rabbits that had been formed from antique chocolate molds like these large examples that had been embellished with bits of ribbon and lace and were selling for oodles of money. Rather than buy one, I decided I would try and make my own.