I miss blogging. I write so slowly that the little free time I have has not been sufficient for pouring out my deep thoughts and other musings. Somedays I am home just long enough to make it messier and then I am off to drive another shift of the school bus. Yesterday was out of control with errands and me being magical and appearing three places at once... actually Wednesday was the same, and Tuesday wasn't much easier, and come to think of it I am running late now!
This post is going to be about as mixed up, weird and random as... as me! I am just going to throw stuff out there.
Stuff like posting the worst pictures I could find of the Bird House.
Why bad pictures, and unflattering views?
Because I am trying to calm my excito-meter. I am trying to chill, settle down, take it easy. My mind races with the excitement of impending domestic delights and I get all worked up and eager to be out of Garage Mahal and settled in to the new nest. Reminding myself that the Bird House is flawed, redirects my giddy energy toward industry and purposeful actions. I need to stop thinking about window treatments and paint chips, and where to hang my plates, and get busy with the practical and necessary chores of both moving out and moving in.
There are junk drawers in Garage Mahal and a garage that is overflowing with worldly treasures... moving sale? I have made some progress with packing, but experience tells me that the last boxes are the toughest. It gets down to the dregs and the oddly shaped things or the very fragile stuff or the things that have no purpose yet are highly valued and must be kept forever; those are the articles that will torment me when I am trying to get every last speck out of Garage Mahal and into the Bird House.
I cannot glamorize or overly glorify the qualities of Bird House, or I will be confounded and dismayed when I finally notice that any home, a rental or a dream come true, has weaknesses, needs work, must be whipped in to shape.
So, what's up with the hook in the wall? Any guesses? There isn't anything opposite the wall, and it's not the kind of place where you would hang a dog leash. Maybe they had some kind of heavy garden art-sculpture.
Clearing things here and coldheartedly purging excess and refuse is inspired by the sight of this:
This Bird House utility closet not only needs to be emptied in to a dumpster, but it also needs to be gutted and done over, because of a leak. Somewhere behind the drywall, or coming from upstairs and settling in to here is a leak, and the leak must be found and repaired. ASAP. What about those extra tiles? If I can find a Habitat ReStore, then maybe I can make a generous donation.
A walk-in attic! Stuff! Not our stuff! Oh boy!
Wait. Are those moving boxes? Excellent.
I wonder if the ReStore can pick up...
A couple of roof fans, some insulation and drywall... this could be an interesting niche.
This is a mixed blessing. What you see here is a mess of aging, failing and black widow-riddled pool equipment.
Pool? Did she say "pool?"
Gee. Haven't I mentioned the pool? I grin hugely every time I think on it. The children love the water. I love the water! We cannot wait to be loving our very own water, but my giddiness is definitely tempered by the reminder that the pool needs love. A. lot. of. love. For one thing, no one is getting in the water until we fix the whole "faulty wiring problem." Seriously.
This is lovely.
I pop over and dead head and give them a nice cool drink. I inhale and marvel at the colors and varieties. It's a raised bed and I can see it from the kitchen sink and from the driveway.
It truly is just like real life. It's good and it's frustrating, it is hard and worthwhile. The whole package. And my future self will thank Me very much if I get up off my blog and work. No more daydreaming or fretting. No more procrastinating or pondering. No more Googling Lewis Carroll. The time has come, to pack our many things: Our shoes and ships and sealing wax--- our pets and books and cooking pots and Lego sets and strings! It's time to call the carpenter!