Work is still underway on the big opening between the kitchen and the dining room, the one that catches me off guard every morning when I wander into that sunlit space and feel like I’m in a little musical. Seriously — I sometimes break into a ridiculous, private song-and-dance routine. While we finish up details like door jambs, trim, and a small wooden ledge for the half-wall, I wanted to introduce the newest member of our home: a small white ceramic octopus who has already stolen my heart.
For a while I’d been adding to my collection of white ceramic animals, and it had felt like ages since the last addition. I mentioned once that I loved a particular tentacled piece, but it was out of stock at the time. Recently John got an alert that it was back, and he quietly ordered it as a surprise for me. His timing was perfect — I’d been secretly planning a surprise for him too — so it felt like the most delightful exchange of sneaky gifts. Cue the collective “aww.”
We’re jokingly calling this little present my belated “congratulations on finishing the office stencil and not having permanent claw-hands” gift. I also might be a tiny bit jealous that she comes with eight arms; imagine how many projects I could finish if I had that many hands. Still, I love having her around as a cheerful, ceramic companion.
Important things about my new porcelain pal: she’s made by a company called Plasticland but crafted from porcelain, and I haven’t chosen her permanent spot yet. Most likely she’ll join the rest of the ceramic family on the dining room built-ins, safely out of Clara’s reach. She cost $19, and with shipping came to roughly $27. That’s not my cheapest purchase — it works out to about $3.37 per tentacle — and she’s not giant (about the length of a dollar bill at her widest point), but she is my first octopod and a thoughtful surprise from my husband, so I couldn’t talk myself out of keeping her. I named her Henrietta because somehow it just fit.
Henrietta has already found a place in our little household’s stories and moments. Small decorative items like this often become more than objects; they become characters in the everyday life of a home. I can picture her perched among other white ceramics on a shelf, catching the light that pours in from the new opening, looking especially charming against the built-in cabinetry. She’s both a sweet keepsake and a tiny reminder of the thoughtful gesture behind her arrival.
Wishing a happy Friday to octopods, bipeds, and quadrupeds everywhere. If you stop by our house right now, you’d probably find me dancing in that doorway with a toddler and a dog. I won’t record it — some things are best kept private and slightly awkward — but if you could imagine a scene straight out of a silly, wholesome video, that would be it. For the curious, the moment looks a little like the type of clip people sometimes share online where someone bursts into song and moves around gleefully in a sunbeam.
Psst — as if the surprise gift wasn’t sweet enough, there’s a short, adorable moment when John first introduces Burger to Clara by letting her smell him. It’s one of those quiet, candid things that makes domestic life feel warm and properly lived-in.