Bed

My third start on this post, words seemingly impossible to come by. Our bed, my comfort in this strange limbo. We are tired. Tired of being tethered to the house. Tired of waiting in spaces only temporarily organized while magic and building occurs. Tired of tradesmen filing in and out every day but Sunday. So very much work, and I feel like a big baby for complaining. Wah, wah, wah…

This life of mine is privileged. We have the money to choose where we live. We have the money to buy a house. We have the money to make it fit a vision in my mind.

We have friends. We are loved and shown kindness. We have everything, really. It is not enough, but soon enough it will be. Cheers to that!

Whole

To be great, be whole;
Exclude nothing, exaggerate nothing that is not you.
Be whole in everything. Put all you are
Into the smallest thing you do.
So, in each lake, the moon shines with splendor
Because it blooms up above.

Fernando Pessoa

 

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Beckon

The hubster was out of town last week, arriving home late Friday. Lucky man missed the raucous madness and gawped come the light of morning at all that had been done.

We spent the weekend catching up, with each other, with sleep, with lawn (ahem, dandelion) mowing, with errands, with food, with cuddles and quiet and loud-ass traffic. Life, basically. Good, sweet, delicious.

And this morning, these blossoms beckoned from across the street.

Nothing much and everything. All at once.

Happy Monday!

 

Boom! It is ON, and we are in the thick of it. The house is rocking and rolling, literally. It is loud, with five people moving and shaking, putting in new doors (top shot) grinding the metal of old windows (third) to put in the new (fourth). There is a shit ton of plastic and barriers because our house is sixty years old, and the paint tested positive for lead. There’s wood dust and dirt, and who knows what, with more to come.

The hubster passed his rough electrical inspection with flying colors, the plumber, too. I installed insulation Wednesday, and the drywall gets installed over it all today. A new kitchen floor happens next Wednesday, kitchen cabinets the Monday after that. Then a counter top, followed by pretty lights,  snazzy tile, a dishwasher, sink, range and hood.

Meanwhile, I make every attempt to maintain my sanity, trying to carve out a space, trying to keep schedules and everything on track. I succeed. I fail. I cry because I can’t find what I am looking for (door hardware, tools, paper, a pen). I cry even harder because Prince died too damn young. I listen to his music and feel a tad better. That which lasts, that which we can keep.

It’s gonna get better, surely, slowly. We’re on our way.

Kindle the candle of intellect in your heart and hasten with it to the world of brightness.

Nasir-i Khusraw

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