It's the Little Things...

While I have been mourning the fact that one of the few bloggers I follow is not going to be blogging much any more, another, who stopped blogging back in December, resurrected her blog, and that made me very happy. She is such a fantastic writer--love her wit! I am glad she is back.

I also had a great dream last night involving a wonder home that we were looking to rent. The woman renting the place said we didn't have to pay rent for the next seven months, because the the previous tenants had paid that far ahead, and didn't leave a forwarding address for her to send the rebate check. The only condition she had was that we clean it before moving in. We took the tour of it, and wasn't too bad, just needed a good once over and the carpet cleaned. (For the record, Bud and I re-cleaned any apartment or home before we moved in, as you just never know...).

The cool thing was that the home was fully furnished, and not with cheapy furniture, either. It even had dishes, pots and pans, etc. The only thing we needed to move in was our clothing and personal items! It was so cool, too--it was actually a duplex, but instead of side by side it was front and back.  The front was empty, too, and my step-sister was going to move in to it with her daughter (in my dream, the rental was owned by a member of her church--that is how we found out about it). While the woman was giving Bud and I a tour of the back unit, her son was giving my step-sister a tour of the front half.

I felt bad, because our side overlooked a beautiful lake, and her side would face the road, but she told me not to worry, because she and the son really hit it off. Turns out they had dated on and off over the years, and were reconnecting.  He owned a huge house down on the lake, and he had invited her to come live with him, no strings. 

Our side was set up pretty cool. The entrance took you directly into the kitchen. Not the kitchen of my dreams, but it was as small as some of the kitchens we have had in the past.  Beyond the kitchen was the dining room and living rooms, with a staircase that went to the lower level.  At the back of the unit was a bedroom and a bathroom. The lower level was a finished walk-out style basement, and it was obvious it had only recently been remodeled. It had three bedrooms (fully furnished, one with bunk beds) that opened to a large family room. Off the family room was a well-appointed laundry room with a new washer and dryer. The family room had a slider that opened to a walk-out patio with patio furniture and a fire pit, and that view of the lake.

I woke up thinking, "I want that house"!  I am in such a good mood, feeling positive and hopeful. I had went to sleep feeling stuck and depressed (this house is sooooooo small, it feels like we are constantly on top of one another).

Maybe things are about to change for us...fingers crossed!

Sharing a Poem or Two

I have a writer trapped inside of me. I have stifled my creativity for so long, I forget it is there sometimes. I have a novel that I haven't worked on in (cringe) two years, and a short story I wrote in my head yesterday while I was sitting outside. CRAZY! The two poems below were "in-my-head" poems as well. I should have written them down while they were still fresh, as the written product is not what the original words were. I tried to recall them, but only was able to come up with the gist of them. Sigh.

Musing on Wisteria

Spring comes, shoulders draped in Wisteria

A vibrant purple wrap upon dancing trees

A youthful playfulness, saying,

"look at me, look at me!"

All too soon, (oh, too soon)

The spring wrap fades to a grey shawl

A mere shadow of what once was

As the Wisteria falls from favor

4/4/11 Weiser

Magenta

And there was a rosebush

It grew by the front porch steps

Much taller than I

I Having never seen it bloom

I waited as the first buds teased

Tight bundles of green

What color bloom lay hidden within?

Red? Yellow? or maybe pink?

Only the rosebush knew

And then--oh my! I see

The first hints of the encapsulated color

No longer hidden from view

Magenta! Not Red or Pink

But a color only worthy of itself

Bursting to greet the day

This rose is not coy-- Not one bit.

It is flashy and sassy

She will not be ignored

Her fragrance is seductive

Not like grandma's toilet water

No, Magenta is sexy

She flirts with everyone

All eyes are drawn to her beauty

A rose so bold

I noticed a subtle change today

Magenta was duller

No longer herself

She drooped on the branch

Struggled to keep her head up

Color draining

No longer smooth and delicate

Petals withered

Defeated

She bowed her head to rest

As the next bloom peeked

To meet the world

4/4/11 Weiser

And now it begins...

With my job officially behind me, I now face the daunting task of weeding out what we have accumulated. We have moved three times in 15 months, and each time, we have weeded out. Weeds--that is what I call all of the crap we somehow accumulate. They aren't necessities, they are just the things that make life easier. Like plastic storage containers with matching lids. Call me a prude, but I got sick of using empty margarine and empty cottage cheese containers. You can't see what is in them, for cryin' out loud!

Clothes are also weeds. I had a closet full of work suits--an excessive amount. I had 15 suits. Who needs 15 suits!?!? I am saving out two interview suits, and I gave the rest away. I was going to have hubby put them on E-Bay, as most came from there in the first place. But one of my sisterwives is about my size, and she wanted them for church, so I gave them to her. I purged, and it felt good to give them to K. I am having my other sisterwife over today to look at blouses. She has commented on several I have worn over the year, so I am letting her take what she wants. (for those who are counting, that is 3 sisterwives--2 living and one deceased).

I have so much stuff! There are some things, however, that have just too much sentimental value to me, like pictures and my grandmother's china. They have been in plastic totes for the last 10 years, as we haven't had anywhere for me to display them. This time around, I am going to see if my brother R will store them for me. I can't get rid of them, but I can't bare to put them in storage again...

Hubby and I have started from scratch so many times now--it gets harder with age, though, let me tell you. I just want to be SETTLED. I'm a mother hen, for cryin' out loud. Nesting is what I do. I think of how the chickens used to react when we took their eggs, running around and squawking. I can so relate...

Squawk!

Off to down-size my life....