Today’s blog post is brought to you by the letter D, for deja move, and also for disheartening. The good news is that very little remains to be taken out of Beloved’s mother’s storage unit. The bad news is that the vast majority of its former contents are boxed up in our living room and dining room. Most of those boxes have other people’s names on them; i.e., they have been sorted through and prepared for shipping to Fern Parts. Some still remain to be dealt with. But for the moment, our living room and dining room look as if there has been a time-warp back to late January.
I neglected to tell you that Beloved and his brother have fixed the commode in the guest bathroom, so we will not (yet) need to shell out $200 for one of those spiffy new dual-flush commodes. I am going to see if there is a peel-and-stick tile I like as much as the spendier flooring options that I’ve seen, and we will repaint the cabinet beneath the sink, and we will be done in there until it’s time to put in a new sink and faucet, et al. They fixed the problem for less than $20. I will start hanging pictures in there, forthwith. Or possibly fifthwith. (Thank you, Victor Borge.)
And the next major project will be a closet of my own. I am hoping to start on that next month. We will need a little (OK, a lot) more room in the dining room before that can happen, so that all the stuff currently stacked in the dining room closet can come out while we seal up that entrance and turn two small crowded closets into a single, spacious one. I think we would both be happier if there were no boxes of his mom’s stuff to get tangled up in ours.
Beloved got his sleep last night in 45 minute increments and was still wiped out when the alarm clock went off this morning. I suggested that he might want to just stay home and sleep, if he could. Which he did. I was a good little Do-Bee and went on to church. The talks were good (I took notes); my students and I all survived Primary (loved that Sharing Time was 100% music time today); came home with a large baggie full of ghost pepper cheese from one of his friends at church. I lost too many brain cells in Primary to be able to tell Beloved from whom.
And now we are heading out to bat cleanup on our home teaching and visiting teaching for July, after which I most devoutly hope there will be an obscenely long nap for Ms. Ravelled.