Secured: Moroccan floor pillows.

[Eli helps me open the box of wonders.]

So I know you’ve all heard me mention the fantastic Carrie from This Free Bird? MFEO. Homegirl keeps me laughing all day on Facebook. Or, as the case may be, emailing her frantically after she posts pictures of Moroccan floor pillows and begging her to secure me some of my own. I love blog friends: she literally called every Home Goods in the area to find more, drove to get them for me, and sent them cross-country from California before I even paid her. [And I could’ve been a total cheapskate thief, like that ho who scammed me last year.]

[Laughing at Carrie’s cat-themed card that said, “May the pillows be with you.”]

Even better in person. Mirrors and tassels and puka shells. Because I basically plan on having my next living room resemble Chris Robinson’s home recording studio as closely as possible, these are quite the boon. I’ve got a few Icelandic sheep pelts coming my way, and I’m recruiting Rob’s Aunt Sue to help me create my own wall-hanging—pow.

[Looking for the tag that says “Fanny goes here.” Also, note that this photo is an homage to my gradual progression from Carey into Carrie: pillow copyage, blanket copyage, and Winter Kate vest copyage.]

I took ’em on a test drive and they are heaven. Heavy, smooshy, with a few lingering cat hairs from their previous, temporary abode—which is home to felines with lovely ticked coats, I learned from some up-close inspection.

Carrie: thank you, thank you, thank you.

-your estranged relative