Thanks, Sweden...

...and Ingvar's family. I know you chose March 12 to mark the auspicious occasion of my birthday.

I've been watching the big blue walls and the shiny yellow signs go up along the highway in Westchester throughout my fall/winter trips north of town. Opening Spring 2008 sounded so far away.

If you're on a east/west/north coast of the U.S., IKEA is nothing new. But when one sprouts in the middle of southern Ohio farm-country-turned-suburb-on-steroids, well, it's a personal gift from the home decor design gods.

I inherited my mom's unfortunate inability to 'settle' for anything without first scouring the countryside to be sure I wasn't missing out on the perfect chair/table/duvet cover/desk/sofa. It took me two full years to replace the worn out sofa I took in the settlement with she-whose-name-is-not-to-be-mentioned-here.

And several folks are still recovering from this year's fruitless quest for the perfect black leather occasional chair. Not too mention the ongoing quest for a writing desk of no more than 41" in width -- oh, but not in the cherry finish.

Yes, I could order online and pay shipping. But not EVERYTHING is sold on line. What might I be missing?

Frankly, if the Steelers weren't also in Pittsburgh, we would have taken a road trip to the store there by now.

IKEA. Two months from today.

I'll be borrowing an SUV, fortifying with a stop at the SBUX drive thru and browsing to my little heart's content. Happy Birthday to ME!