My intensive painting days did not last for the three days I expected them to. They lasted FOREVER. Well, or a week, whichever comes first. Technically, I’m still not done: I have a door to paint, some shelves to finish, and a cabinet to both primer and paint. Not to mention some touch-ups around the ceiling where I was so eager to get it DONE that I put tape on paint that was not quite dry yet, therefore ripping off the paint when I removed the tape. Sigh. And we still need to do something about the countertop — tile, I hope.
My new home is still very much a work in progress. The furniture currently consists of a bed and my camp chair, plus a box that I’m using as a step stool for Zelda to get on and off the bed. The bed might have been a mistake: I bought a 14-inch mattress, which didn’t seem huge, and an 18-inch frame, which also didn’t seem huge. Put them together and you’ve got 32 inches, which also doesn’t seem huge. But it’s closer to three feet than two, and while Zelda could have made the jump easily five years ago, it’s a little much for her now. I’m also, sadly, not sure my quite senile dog will be able to figure out how to use a step. She’s pretty foggy these days. I may be lifting her up and down a lot. But the mattress is comfortable, and the frame was always intended as a temporary solution, so it’s not an insurmountable problem.
It felt pretty strange to be moving out of Serenity. I… well, I just spent a long time thinking about that instead of writing. Suffice to say, my feelings are complicated. What a weird time it is. The other day Suzanne and I were sitting outside on the back patio, enjoying the sunshine and eating something — possibly gluten-free chocolate cupcakes with mint buttercream icing? — and I said, “I’m quite enjoying our apocalypse.” Whenever I’m thinking — about the state of the world, about politics, about the economy, about my son throwing me away like I’m trash — I’m deeply scared and desperately hurt. But whenever I stop thinking and just exist, my life is delightful. Moral of the story: more existing, less thinking. It’s not very good for my writing career to be existing, not thinking, but there’s a roof over my head and chickens clucking next door, so I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Tomorrow being a metaphorical future day that is not today, not actually the period of time twenty-four hours from now. During that period of time, I will probably be painting. Or maybe tiling. Definitely doing something to make my already adorable tiny house even more adorable.
Speaking of which — how about some pictures? These are the same shots from my earlier post.
joe bustillos said:
Thanks! One could argue bland, based on the pictures, but IRL it’s light and airy and cute. I like it very much — it was worth the work!
I have been thinking about you and R a great deal. I am heartbroken this has happened. I want to see you so badly.
I would just cry a lot. You would have to be amply supplied with tissues. And there’s not really a lot to say: he’s cut off all communication with me, so it’s not like there are updates. I have no idea what he’s thinking or why he’s made this set of choices. From my pov, it’s just a brutal, mysterious, heartbreaking rejection. From his pov? I honestly have no idea.
Looking VERY good! Keep at it!! Maybe Z needs her own bed beside your bed?? Excellent choice in the colors!
Z’s got two beds! Currently both underneath my bed, because she keeps dragging them around. So far she’s mostly choosing to sleep in them, but I do want her to have the options of being on the big bed if she wants. Typically, she’s slept at my feet in traditional dog fashion. And thanks, I like the colors, too!
It’s getting cuter by the day. It approached adorable overload today! In fact, it might have hit it :). Looking forward to sharing more pictures soon, but I’m hoping to get my shelves up first.
Wow! What a difference! Love your color choices, it looks so fresh and peaceful. I’m so sorry about you and your son. The mystery and confusion must be difficult. I hope you reconnect soon
Thank you! For both the compliment and the sympathy.
A ramp would work for your doggie. No training necessary!
I’ve been strategizing about a ramp! There’s not a lot of room for one, but it might be my next project. Thanks for the suggestion!
It’s really starting to look very homey! So cozy, all you need to do is figure out how to make it easy for Zelda to get into the new bg bed.
I’m pretty scatterbrained these days. Not being able to go anywhere except my daily walks, and a grocery store pick-up every 7 to 10 days, and living on my own, lends itself to lots of introspection. My tiny patio doesn’t lend itself to sitting outside or even a container garden, so I’ve been focusing on indoor projects, like cleaning up my laptop and various memory cards and hard drives and USB keys I have lying around. I also want to scan old photos, but that’s a big project and a little daunting.
I’m trying not to spend too much time watching Netflix, but am listening to audiobooks on my walks and while cooking.