Sorting, packing and jettisoning years of stuff has been both energizing and exhausting. I have found items that I have no idea where they came from, possibly they slunk in unbeknownst to me and decided to stay. I have found things I had forgotten about that I do wish to keep, letters and such. And I have sent many things on their way to new homes, with only the absolute junk off to the dump. I am also getting tire of the whole process and the diy that has gone with it.
I have my list of tasks at hand-
Paint touch ups
Sort, pack, toss
Put in new sink
Wash this, fix that
The list goes on, and all those who have moved know the burnout that a moving prep list can bring. The ennui that tackling another task brings on. The energy spikes that can occur unexpectedly to help power you through. And all this before the house is listed or the new place found! No wonder my mom hasn’t moved in over 60 years.
I love a successful weekend. It gives off such a good vibe to start the week off on. On my done list are: Habitat Restore donations, Goodwill donations, prep for carpet install, Christmas tree down, website updates (that actually published this time!), the usual chores, family movie time, and time just to relax. On Friday I was not feeling so upbeat, as the list continued grow and the items didn’t fall in place in order for progress to be made. But Saturday, it all started with the dump run kicking things off right. We even got to have some laughs with the girls as they cleaned out their closets of childhood things, especially the stuffed animals and leftover kid clothes they couldn’t bear to part with once outgrown. Now, I can tackle the second week of January feeling fresh and energized. A feeling I hope will carry on for some time as I have much to do!
The days of July are here, the ponds are covered in waterlilies and turtles are sunning themselves on fallen logs. The days feel slow, with the heat pushing down and the humid air clinging like a wet towel. Yet I know the days are still the same 24 hours they are in December and January. I am still working my way (albeit VERY slowly) through the boxes I brought home from my studio. I would have thought to have made more progress in 8 weeks, but alas I have been slacking in that endeavor! I have undertaken compiling fonts, images and mixed media pieces for my website, which is in the works under someone else’s capable hands. I finally realized I could either spend 100+ hours and get nowhere, or spend some money and have a person who does it as their job. Who will actually complete a functional site. Yet it still requires me to get things prepped for uploading, a myriad of tiny things that need doing for each image. The hardest part is to do it and not continue to fiddle with it, that tinkering will always derail my best laid plans. Hence the outside web design. I am anxious to see the first draft, and a bit nervous about even considering a web site, but without a studio I need the chance for some exposure. And after all, doing nothing is not a good option if I want to move forward. So, these July days are a mix of activities, much as they are a mix of weather.
looking across a landscape both familiar and unknown. Metaphorically clambering over fences has become a much more regular thing in my life. Life moves at a steady pace in spite of how it sometimes seems to drag or speed by. But progress is being made as Joe recovers. And the more he does, the more frustrated the slow but steady pace is to him. He wants to be king of his own schedule again, to work, and come and go as he pleases. He wants the illusion of certainty that life used to have. And though I am one who prefers disillusionment (the facts) to being fooled by illusions, I know what he means. He wants back that carefree feel which was lost. The map that didn’t have this detour which took him someplace he had no interest in going. But there is no rewind, so the options are stand still or keep moving. And each are fraught with unknowns, but at least one is action.
This fall while poking around an old. empty house I noticed this tiny stamp stuck on the mantle. As the house has sat empty for years, though this was my first foray inside, I do not know if the stamp was put there decades ago or more recently. It appears to be a stamp from Chile, and in that old green and off white color of days gone by. I have kept an eye on the house all these years since seeing the estate sale on the lawn close to a decade ago, always expecting it to have been torn down. It was a farm and sits on 40 some acres right on a busy state route, and since big box stores have been filling in all along the route I know it is just a matter of time. It is also possible it will go to upscale homes with a fancy sign saying Pheasant Ridge Run or some such overdone name. It is completely unlikely it will be restored. I will post some other photos over the next week so you can get a feel for the place, as it does have a story that is all but lost except for these images.There is not enough postage affixed to save it. Such is life.