I’ve been thinking about TP a bunch lately. Those new commercials with women seriously discussing the TP selection process have affected me deeply.
Just joking. On the other hand, this picture by Susan Seubert in the February/March issue of Oregon Home (the Desert Drama home feature) did make me pause:
Now that’s a built-in I’m jealous of. I have a couple of TP hangups. First, I’ve been able to stop using all paper towels and all paper napkins. But I’m stuck on the TP alternatives. Once my friend Linda asked me if I’d managed to kick the TP habit. I replied “Yes!” in a very excited tone. The look of horror on her face was amazing. I don’t think she would have been more upset to find an intruder in the house. Of course I was joking. My name is Nancy, and I use TP.
My second hang-up is those damn TP holders that everyone has stuck to their walls. They are ugly. I dislike carving a hole in the wall for one that sits flush with its surface, and so many are ornate curlicue messes. But what really gets on my nerves is those boingy spring contraptions that always end up flying across the room at the worst possible time — or in the nastiest of bathrooms. So my bathrooms have unmolested walls, no spring action waiting to trap an unsuspecting guest (or me), and alternative TP holders. One has a big basket of TP, which is comforting in a weird way (inventory can be nice). Another has these cute little saucers with my initials on them. Also very reassuring to me, as I love seeing my initials all over the place, is this beauty:
I once saw bathroom with a bizarre little deer statuette in it. The TP tubes were stuck on the deer’s ears. Definitely a style statement. There are many alternatives for a TP feature, but right now I’m most jealous of the TP inventory shown above. That’s super cool. It’s functional and sculptural. Sign me up!
Portlander Nancy Ranchel is a self-described accountant, design fan, serial re-modeler, compulsive re-user, and blog writer.
