That's Maria's countdown. I had to borrow it, because it's so effective.
I marvel at how many times it is necessary to reaffirm our beliefs, our dreams and plans. Recently we had to asses how well or not well things are working here at the Garage Mahal. Our rental mansion is not ideal for our way of doing things, things like homeschooling, building robots, camping in the yard... we are a project family, a family day-dreaming of raising chicks and planting pumpkins. We are not very much at home here, but would it make any sense to move? Again? Oh Lord. Not again. No, until it's our own home, I will drag my boots and kick and scream before I move one more time.
Hold on a sec... I am closing my eyes and counting how many times I have moved in my young 41 years... let's see... not counting moves my father made, I have moved 24 times. Not every move was a trial. Not every move was a disappointment, and we can suppose that I am a better person for the experiences I have had, but good grief, I would just like to sit still for a few years. I can think of only 1 time when I was completely unpacked. That lasted 5 months. It was extremely gratifying.
Rather than find a place with a better layout or a bigger yard, Geoff and I decided to shift stuff around. I had begun to allow the front room to become a sewing room and the same room has also been our school room. It's probably not the intended purpose of the formal space with the standing faux columns to be decorated with white boards, folding tables, fabric stashes, text books and computers. Our activities are probably better suited to a basement, but only in the classic and traditional sense and it is well established that we are neither classic nor traditional. Besides California homes rarely have basements. Gosh, this is a lot of fluffy writing.
We are going to make the front room an exclusive school room. I brought home another folding table and we added a desk and the old Mac is set-up there. The final results are still being worked on, and hopefully this will facilitate reading, 'riting and 'rithmetic. The sewing room has been hauled to the garage. I just inhaled. It's a garage and full of garage kinda things and weak light and not much in the way of style or charm. If we stay through Winter I won't be sewing much, and in Summer I am sure I will have to swing the door up for air, but right now the temperature is fine in there. Geoff says he'll find me an outlet. Max suggested I paint the wall of stacked moving boxes... tempting.
Well, when there is power and after we find another shelf for my fabric, it will be functional and good. I find it satisfying enough just thinking of how I spared us a move. We can't have chickens and there isn't room to grow pumpkins or sweet peas, but at least some issues are placated.
Jennifer has started a Hope Revolution. Besides leaving affirmations and notes of encouragement around town, she sent me a Joy package full of goodies and fun. She shared stamps and quilting books, and she made me a CD of "new to me" tunes, which I love. She filled a box. The fruit scented jumbo pencils have been a favorite of all. Jennifer, I hope you and Dean are enjoying your *solo* weekend. Track those shoes wherever you may and think of me when eat something so bad it's good. You and I have so much in common. Isn't it amazing the number of times we find we are having the same thoughts or themes? You cheer me and make me glad our paths cross again and again. Thank you.