I have a work space . . .

The carpenters left with a Hi Ho Silver and a cloud of dust. Literally. There is dust on every surface from drilling the cord holes. But . . . who cares, I have a work space. A scrap room. A studio. A dedicated room. Call it what you may, I am tippy-tapping my way joyfully around putting things here and there. Giddy, I say. Just plain GIDDY!!! I actually have two work areas. One for normal stuff and one for . . . I don't know, sewing, having a friend over the scrap, or just plain having another area to mess around in. The blinds come in Wednesday afternoon. This afternoon, we are chair hunting (I stole Frank's for the time being), and I need to pick up the frame for files that go in the center set of drawers. The rug is on order and Frank is figuring out the crown molding. Then come the no bracket 3.5" deep shelving for my stamps and it is done. No excuses, I will have to create. What glorious fun.

Update and bad momma story . . .

Update: Bear weighs 4.25 pounds and Ninja weighs a whopping 2.63 pounds. They guestimate Bear at 14 weeks and Ninja at 8. They are both in good health but came with every parasite known to man. They have now been treated and are due back in three weeks for check-ups and more vaccinations. However, they are in quarantine from Snoop and Moak for at least another week. Not that either seems to mind. Snoop is put out that they have occupied my bedroom and bathroom. His territory! Moak, being the downstairs cat doesn’t even know they exist. He is leaving for college on the 14th anyway.

The last thing I said to Frank before I fell asleep last night was, “Don’t forget to put the toilet cover down.” So, this morning I wake up, do my business and head downstairs to get breakfast ready for the big guys and a plate for the little guys. I walk back up stairs and open the door to the bathroom, which is connected to the bedroom, and almost lose my balance as I step barefooted into a suspicious puddle near the toilet. Righting myself just in time to avoid a plate of kitten kibble and wet food being plastered on my ceiling, I think, oh, no, another one that misses the litter box. That was at least until I spied Ninja. A soaking wet Ninja. Evidently, swallowing my own words, I forgot to put the toilet cover down and she fell in. Poor little girl. Undaunted, she scampered around and attacked her breakfast with gusto, Bear at her side. Bad momma.

On the excellent news front and pictures to follow this afternoon, the cabinetry guy called last week and said he will be here today to install my cabinets and then will deliver the countertop the first of the week. This morning he arrived with BOTH. When they are finished today, my work area will be ready!!!! I am so freakin’ excited!!!!

introducing . . .

Ninja and he with no name yet. Yep, we headed to a rescue shelter and were overwhelmed. The little black guy . . . Ninja adopted Frank. It was love and kisses at first sight. Startled the heck out of Frank who soon sported a huge grin. Mine, he who has yet to be named, is a little older at 10 ish weeks. He is a brown tabby with some Maine Coon mixed in. Snoop is not so enthralled. He is wide eyed under the bureau with no intent of leaving anytime soon. Especially since Ninja is running all over the bedroom like a rocket. I'll give him another five minutes before he crashes and snores. Love having babies in the house again but I still miss Bru terribly.

ain't that the truth . . .

Gotta love the billboards running down the interstate. This one was so much better than the 7,961 Huddle House boards we passed, or the obnoxious Stucky's pecan log roll advertisements, or watching a Waffle House fly by at 75 mph. Yep, this was today's favorite!

The puppet show

My neighbor sent me this this morning. Hi Paula, thanks for sharing.

my little lexicon . . .

This is the start and finish to my newest project . . . a miniature lexicon. Of course there is no middle yet as it is very much a work in progress, but the 4 x 4 accordion book will be filled with my favorite words. Everyone has them . . . words that evoke memories . . . or make you happy. Words that make your heart swell or just plain tickle your fancy. Key words that just unlock emotions. "Giddy" is one. It never fails to make me smile. Some I just like because of the way they roll off your tongue like "tundra". "Whiffle" is an odd word but it's fluency appeals to me. Clouds "scud". . . a great descriptive word. Anyway, you get my drift. I love words and this book will celebrate them.

a new world . . .

sometimes having a time crunch comes with its own benefits. I had to be at the dentist at 9 am., Kaity arrives at 7:45, her bus comes at 8:22. Somewhere in there, I needed to get in my morning bike ride before the heat gets unbearable. The only way I could figure to squeeze everything in: getting cleaned up and presentable to get my teeth cleaned and have some time to catch up with Kaity's previous day, was to leave at 6:3o.

The world is different as the sun is coming up. The moisture is still in the air. There are sheets of blueish haze on the fields rising up two or three feet . . patchy . . . ethereal. Out of habit, I had grabbed my prescription sunglasses. It was too dark to wear them. The cars still had their lights on. In my blindness, everything looked rather Van Gogh-ish . . . blurred and faded yet clean with the expectation of a new day. The cranes were still out in the ponds, looking for breakfast I suppose. The egrets joined them begging for leftovers. The grass was still wet with dew and just starting to sparkle in the new sun. An eerie world . . . but strangely pleasant and definitely a welcome surprise.

round two . . .

just when I thought my school schlepping days were over, along comes a grandchild. With Katie back at college, I am free to sleep in. Problem is, my biological clock wakes up at 6:30 regardless of who is where. So when my DIL called and asked if she could drop her Kaity off and let her get the bus to middle school from here, (she has to be at work before school starts), I jumped at the chance. First of all, I am already up, secondly, she is such a sweet kid, and third, I am just plain happy to be useful. So today was the first day of school and Katie just happened to be home for an appointment. (are you confused with Katie and Kaity yet? We have a shortage of names in this family: 2 joe's, 2 stacie's, 2 colins, 2 scott's and of course 2 Katie's, not to be confused with Katie and a good friend of hers from elementary school on, to whom everyone just referred to as THE KATIE'S). Katie reminded me of the obligatory first day of school pictures and showed Kaity the proof, flipping through her school album. So here is Kaity positioned in front of the fireplace like so many shots of Katie. That done and 1/2 hour later, Katie and I walked Kaity to the bus stop. Sigh. Happily, life just rolls right along replenishing itself when needed.

Spring has sprung . . .

three down, one more to go. The owner of the RSS wanted each season. She'll get this one Tuesday so keep your fingers crossed that she likes it. Pretty please.

2 more rulz of the house . . .

we seem to live under some ancient discarded rules of Archimedes. If you spend money on non-essentials, the essentials get upset and revolt AND if one appliance dies, another will shortly follow. Thus, when our oven died, so did the dishwasher. When the TV died, so did the washer, when the vacuum cleaner died it took the dryer . . . . you get the drift. So I should have known when our 29 year old (that is not a typo) microwave died Monday night that something was sure to follow. And, darned if I didn't wake from a nap a little soggy and damp . . . the a/c was definitely not doing its best. While the air handler was chugging away, the temperature was rising higher and higher. I call the repairman, certain they would tell me they can get there sometime just after Labor Day. Thankfully, they'll have a guy out this afternoon. I make a mad dash to the hardware store because I know our filters are filthy . . . sort of like cleaning the house before the maid comes . . . and no, that is not first hand knowledge.

Frank just hollered up the stairs wanting to show me the culprit. Some gizmo that corroded and fried some wires that made something else misfire or backfire or catch fire. Whatever, just give me some cold air PLEEEEEASE.

vibrating heaven . . .

got the call yesterday, telling us the recliner would be delivered the next day between 9 - 11. Happy, happy. So bright and early I am up moving all those darn boxes and bags yet once more, to make room for the chair. 8:45 am, the doorbell rings . . . it is the furniture guys. I am so excited I throw open the door forgetting about the alarm which is now screeching it's silly brains out, waking the entire neighborhood. My first dorkism for the day. Nice men . . . they carry it upstairs and set it up for me and skedaddle. Oh, tappity, tappity, tap!!! I am giddy.

Katie who is not so happy to be up at this hour of the morning let alone trying to get ready for her first dermatological body scan has done some fast scrambling to avoid strange men, inquisitive cats and obnoxiously gleeful mothers.

Speaking of inquisitive cats, Snoop of course is still hiding from the intrusion of the delivery men, but Moak . . . he has wandered upstairs nose a quiver. As I announce to the world that this will be a non-cat chair, Katie is not so silently snickering. Moak is a seat snuggler from way back. But I, evil person that I am, have a plan. As soon as I catch him nesting, I will hit the vibrator. Ha! No more cat. However, should I hit the heat button by mistake all will be lost and Moak will become a permanent fixture leaving only in the dead of night in search of munchies and libation.

Frank has also wandered up and claimed nesting rights. I doubt turning on the vibrator will deter him as it certainly has done nothing but improve my disposition and make me want to purr with contentment. Giddy, I say. GIDDY!!!!!

oooooooh, I lied again. . .

Yesterday, we headed out looking for a recliner for the room I promised I wouldn't mention again. Oops. I want one in the corner for two reasons. 1. I want a cubby for reading. A nice snugly chair: a quiet place. And, 2. Frank comes up in the morning with his coffee, reads the paper and snoozes, all to keep me company while I do my thing. I love his company even if we do occasionally fight over whether the ceiling fan is on or not. I love moving air. It makes him crazy. So when he makes me nuts, I turn it on to 747 speed. So subtle . . . .not. And he leaves.

I get off topic so easily . . . sigh. So we go to the first store. ACK! A huge display of Swedish chairs with foot stools. No, no, no. They cost a fortune, they look bizarre and take up too much space. Next area. Leather recliners. I stick to leather. Must be the only human on the face of the earth that hates leather seats in cars. Maybe I am just naturally sticky. Next area: Granny chairs. You know, every one's great grandmother had one. A small rocker recliner with a skirt . . . usually in tweed, plaid or chintz. I am not into skirts. Next: Humongous overstuffed monsters. OMG, I sat in the first one and thought I was going to be sucked down a rabbit hole to have dinner with the queen. If airplane seats were this big, there would be just one per aisle. But honestly, we would have to build another room, just to house it. Pass. I am getting desperate, the sales lady is looking ragged, Frank has disappeared and nothing appeals to me. NOTHING. So I apologize profusely, track down the missing and we head to store two.

Big sign screaming from the front door. RECLINERS. I make a beeline hoping to out run the sales guy and have a little time to look on my own. Frank runs interference. And, there it is! Love at first sight across a crowded room. It comes in beige or blue, wide whale chenille (is there such a thing). Soft and comfy. Perfect. But what is this cord. Oh Lord, I am coming home. It has a massage/heat system. Hook, line and sinker, I am hopelessly snookered. Frank and I dicker over color and choose the blue. It will be delivered on Wednesday. Happy, happy, happy.

Side note to Katie: Your father tried a new technique and got the delivery charge expunged without blowing a gasket or embarrassing me into the next county.

spent the morning . . .

reclaiming my bedroom!!! During the process of notching out a space for me, all of the contents of the loft needed to go elsewhere and elsewhere they did . . . into the hall, my bedroom, the bathroom, Katie's room. No where was sacred. So for a week you heard a lot of nasty words from the bedroom as we stubbed toes, bruised shins, caromed off walls trying to dodge STUFF. My klutz factor went sky high.

I am happy to say, the bags are gone, the room rearranged and the first three layers of dust have been swallowed up by my Dyson Animal. I had to smack it on the back a few times as it choked and sputtered. It deserves a medal for going above and beyond the call of duty. We are still not peeking under the bed. That can wait for cleaning level two.

I moved the flea market pictures to their new home over the bed. I know, who in their right mind A) takes pictures at a flea market B) actually develops them and C) hangs them in broad daylight. So I am odd. I love shots of old buckets, wooden spindles, milk cans, etc. They make me happy.

Tomorow I reclaim the bathroom.

goodbye old friend . . .

there comes a time . . . when you have no hunger, when you are in pain . . . when you can find no comfort . . . no solace or joy . . . when life is a cage for your ravished body . . . it is time to let go and with a little help and held by she who loves you most, go over the bridge . . . You will always be in my heart Bru, always.

holding my breath . . .

Frank is putting the second coat of paint on my new room and by this afternoon I will be able to divest my bathroom and bedroom of all the bags and boxes that belong in the loft and wait ever so impatiently for the six weeks it will take for the cabinetry to come in. In the meantime with the room so freshly painted, the window and screen look oh so miserably grubby. What's a body to do? The screen is easy to remove, take downstairs and scrub in the driveway but the outside of the windows . . . that is a whole other story . . . as in second story . . . as in hovering over the pool deck . . . as in concrete. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, so there I am outside the window, balancing on the cage beams, Windex in hand, hoping my will is up-to-date. EEK.

And to everyone's delight, this will be the last post on my room until mid September. Thanks one and all for putting up with my ramblings on this topic.

before and after

I am soooooo glad Katie has her little nest . . . but oooooooooooh what a mess I have. That's Katie's dust mop, "Moaky" in the background. OK. no comments about my housekeeping abilities!!!!

Can anyone spy Michelle's flamingo in the before shot????

yesterday was two days long . . .

I set my cell alarm for 6:30 and my alarm clock for 7:00. This was the big day. Katie was taking possession of her new apartment. I am too old and gray for this . . . my schlepping days are over. We hired a moving company. 7:30 they appeared at our door. Katie and I stuck around long enough to answer any questions and took off ahead of them, leaving Frank to handle that end. We signed her life away. (I am still thinking the last paragraph asked for her first born). Grabbed the keys and headed for her apartment. Let me tell you, it is G O R G E O U S. How come I was sharing my first couple of apartments with beady eyed creatures of the night? Anyway, we unpacked what we had brought, which mostly consisted of bathroom supplies and Gatorade. Priorities, you know. And settled in to wait for the moving company. They made great time which pleased me no end since we were paying by the hour. They were great. Got her set up and were gone. We waited for the cable guy, the futon guy and our free pizza, compliments of the apartment complex, while finding homes for her belongings. Then we waited for Frank who was coming up to pick me up. Instant digression: We have a saying in our house: "By the time we get to the end of the driveway, Frank is lost and I have forgotten where we were going". So you know where this is headed. Frank calls LOST. I hand the phone to Katie because she knows the area. She keeps telling him to pull over and we will come get him. Nope. He is a man. He will not listen. He is happily driving around who knows where. Finally he says he sees the mall and pulls over near Mimi's. Mimi's just happens to be our favorite restaurant up there. So I tell him stay put, get us a table, we are headed over for dinner. Yummy food. A quick stop at Target for some necessities, a stop at Publix for goodies for the pantry and fridge and back to the apartment for more unpacking. At 11:00 pm I am exhausted and we call it quits and head home. 1:00 am, wine glass in hand, I think how totally worth it is is to have Katie one happy camper.