Almost at month five and the days slide by more effortlessly, one to the next. Such a change from the angst filled movement of time I experienced in the first few months.
There is a metamorphosis that takes place both in the house and the owner when the former changes hands. This old house seems to have its adjustment to the way we live in it; differently from the people before us. Being caught up in the adjustment on my end of things, I never spent much time thinking about how the house might feel. I surely called it unkind words, held it at arm’s length like a naughty child, and yet expected to feel warmth and comfort in its space. Watching this relationship grow, I more deeply understand how much I am the house and the house is me. Really now, nasty names and punishing behavior do not suggest ‘Welcome’.
The grand teacher, Time, holds me gently by the shoulders and looks kindly into my eyes. She reminds me to be gentle and kind with myself, a new opportunity to learn an old and way over due lesson.
Moving is as much about cleaning out the junk inside of me as well as the junk I’ve collected outside in my life. The outside stuff had an obvious place to go…Goodwill, the Dump, but where does the inside stuff go? I am becoming more aware of tossing out the thoughtless things I tell myself, and instead try each morning to walk down the stairs and look at what is sweet and beautiful, and that, embarrassing as it sounds, has to include me. It’s all one, right? I will trust that you see these pictures and changes in that light, and know how hard it is to have the outside and inside match sometimes. Sure the butcher block top is a great improvement…. and so am I,…becoming.
That kick started me to go to the fabric store with the thought of making a valance for the kitchen window. The storekeeper was well-meaning and that said, drove me nuts. Suggestion upon suggestion, she was non stop. Between that and her distracting Pandora music station, I struggled to keep my focus. As you know, making decisions these days is like and Olympic event for me. Thankfully, another customer came in and she buzzed around them, leaving me to make my selection in peace.
I’m still stuck on paint colors for the living room to the right of the kitchen and the hallway to the left. Teacher Time lovingly rubs my back. I take a deep breath and tell myself that it’s ok to not know yet. I must admit, that I am so itchy to paint, it hurts!
Another dilemma I faced was what to do about the cats clawing the new rug and eventually the new slip covers for the couch. Each morning I would scrutinize the rug, looking for places where the wool was pulled. Something needed to be done because this issue was not going away. Respected friends suggested having the cats de- clawed. I wanted to believe that solution was a good one. Taking the ‘cats by the claws’, I called the vet and asked to make an appointment. “We don’t do that”, she said, and proceeded to give me a list of reasons why. I was half relieved and half disappointed. Her alternative, clipping their claws and gluing plastic claw covers on them, to a woman who can’t even get her cat in the cat carrier, or feed it a pill, seemed impossible. I took down the website she gave me that sold the claw covers and figured there was no other alternative. Take a look….
The next big adventure was having Bob’s studio completed. It is a beautiful space and his paintings look gorgeous! Really, this studio will sell paintings. It is a confident space, and fortunately, Bob moved through the process that way. Outside and inside match!
Having checked that off the list, the little room I was intending as my studio/sitting room has become available now that he is fully moved into his studio. I am totally in the dark as to what I want and how I want it to look. When the room is ready, it will invite me in and tell me how it needs to be. After all, we have just met!
In the meantime, I priced a garden shed back in November, but began to feel gun-shy about all the money we were spending. Maybe by spring I will be ready. Bob encouraged me to call and order it. It’s funny how we each take turns reminding each other that this is what we promised ourselves when we made the move, and that we budgeted the proceeds from selling the farm for just these purchases.
So here she comes on a snowy Saturday…
Uh oh!!! This was not pretty to watch. The flat-bed spun its wheels and got stuck in a gully. Finally, they had to tow it using the pickup truck. Can’t wait to see what my yard looks like next season….
The next morning, in 10 degree weather, I traipsed back and forth, from the garage to the shed, loading the tools, and all things garden, into their new home. The work table from my old studio has been re-purposed into a potting/seed starting surface.
Is life all about untangling messes and creating order? That appears to be my job description recently and I’m not complaining….it’s satisfying. So I thought in preparation for moving my creative life into the now empty room, I had better organize my yarn stash.
Time to pull down the night curtain on a productive and satisfying weekend. This is the time when the dreams come and I must admit, only recently have they taken me to my old house, the farm. I am often sneaking into the driveway and entering when I am sure the new owner is not home. I look into the rooms and don’t recognize them, as they are often filled with garish colors and old furniture. When I inch my way outside, the garden is overgrown and old wooden benches, looking as if they’re about to give way, are scattered about with little children sitting on them. In most dreams, the owner comes upon me, not angry or accusing me of trespassing, mostly disinterested that I am there. I tell her I forgot something and came by looking for it.
I am not ready in real-time to go back and see the farm yet. I fear I would pull into the driveway and walk through the mudroom door as naturally as ever, feeling that it is still my house . I guess when I have more roots to anchor me here than what remains of the withering roots back there, it will be time to visit….maybe the dreams are helping me get to that time?
Soon the light will be different as February and a visit from old friend groundhog is less than a week away. Wishing you all happy times as we live into each new day.