We are going to have a new basement within the next couple of months. My brothers are going to be cutting in to the concrete floor of the basement to put in new pipes for plumbing to add a bathroom. This means we have to empty the basement.
The basement where twenty years of collective crap was moved when we sold our last house that was twice as big as this house.
So yesterday we started separating the crap in to piles. Keep pile. Yard sale pile. Throw away pile.
The keep pile kept growing while the yard sale pile did not qualify as a pile at all. I went through my dad’s desk. My father died in 1998. I can’t get rid of the socks, we all kept a pair of his socks. I started reading the sympathy cards I had received when he passed. I was immediately transported to 1998. I was surprised at the depth of the pain I felt from reading words from friends and family. I had to stop. I pulled out a large envelope and found this:
How cute was I? Honestly I look at this and don’t see much vision. But I see hidden creativity. I noticed the clouds were all ‘drawn’ with something underneath to form a pattern. It’s not dated but I bet it was like when I was two or something. Which would make this really good. Not to mention a little OCD or something. I even oulined the tree tops.
Then we realized how many more books I could not make myself sell. So we went upstairs and outside.
To work on a picket fence husband wants to build.
I know, it makes sense.
But it’s the way of life isn’t it?
We go from one thing to another. Because it has to be done.
So this picket fence isn’t just any picket fence. It’s hand made. From “ripping” the boards to the their appropriate width. To cutting them to appropriate shape. To sanding every single centimeter to proper smoothness and shape.
By the way, I do believe the pictures of me are proof positive that I have no vanity.
So we’re working on the pickets for the picket fence while we are contemplating what to do with all of the basement stuff (aka crap). Around 5 p.m. we (me) determines we should build shelves in my “bike room” so I can put all of my books in the bike room instead of hauling everything to the garage and later back in to the house.
So Husband goes lumber shopping while I sand the pickets.
He returns and we build shelves.
They aren’t done yet. Much to do. Getting ready to go finish them right now. They aren’t perfect. Well, actually, they kind of are. We needed a solution to another problem and came up with one. We aren’t too particular that we need to have diagrams and figuring everything out ahead of time. There was a situation that needs a resolution and no one (Husband learned this long ago) told me I couldn’t, or shouldn’t, or should plan better. I drew a picture on a piece of wood in the garage, made a list, sent the Husband shopping, and …. wa-lah.
Resolution almost complete.
For one thing.
But it’s one way to manage things (life). I guess. Work on one thing until you can take care of something else.
Things’ll get done.