March 27, 2012

It Hasn't Happened Yet

What a mess: G’s grandmother’s table, my grandpa’s chair, G's camel saddle, and Harriette and John’s office bookcase. Cacophony, now all changed to new cacophony.

Don’t run a marathon, the doctor told me after last week’s shot. I haven’t run miles, but I’ve been continually moving with my domesticities until the pain sits me quietly somewhere. The Great Geezer is operating on the “It hasn’t happened yet philosophy”…which is good, I suppose. It hasn’t happened yet.

I believe it will. Just in case, I made him buy a decent pair of dress khaki’s to wear if they call him in. He’s a car guy, but still he can look decent. He wore them last night, and they were so long they almost looked like a train followed each foot. I took the pants to the cleaners to be shortened after swimming this morning and absolutely must remember to pick them up on Friday.

He’s thinking of more technical matters. More monitors so he will have three while he secretly longs for four. Instead of thinking monitors, I am determined to move all of his work space into the sun of the corner windows. He argued, but caretakingly I reminded him that he needed sunshine or he get’s depressed. So somewhere in the middle of the long desk the printer and scanner will live, the travel books now supplant the quilts, and my bottom dresser drawer will be packed into a box for storage…all these under the bed.

Each thing that we move frees up another handful of inches of this or that for another cause.

I’ve shopped. Paper thin pork loins with sautéed peaches, potatoe wedges with a tossed green salad. Tomorrow corn chowder. I even remembered that we were going to two pot lucks this weekend. We will be very late for one, but we wouldn’t miss this first apartment, this first house warming party for a once homeless Iraq vet. He’s got a lot of support. Cheese and crackers from us. They say he needs nothing else.

So now I am dodging the volumes of dust I found on the train books. I’ve moved this and that and this again until there’s room in the office where there wasn’t before. Life is awfully good. Later they called and postponed it all a week. Life is still awfully good.

It hasn’t happened yet, but I believe it will.


  1. Another pretty picture of your bright and wonderful home! Makes me realize that perhaps my home is a bit dreary. Mayhaps you will be my influence to change that, when I am able! I could never do white, but it is truly beautiful with all the splashes of color from your books and quilts.

  2. Lovin these pictures of your house. I love furniture with stories. Love arranging groups of pictures, etc. People have never been able to put their finger on what I do that sets my house apart. Easy, no new furniture, groups of pictures hung at the correct height, as well as books and knitting on display. Simple as that. Some folks just don't get it.

  3. Your home always looks so inviting....I can imagine being there would be even better. Good luck on the reorganizing; I am sure you will make it cozy and productive at the same time.

  4. What looks like a mess to you, looks beautiful to me. Love your placement of mirrors. You do great things with colors. Dianne

  5. Your home is gorgeous! Having been there, I can attest to the truth of that statement!

  6. Your home is looking so pretty, Mage. I do love to organize and making space too. The chowder sounds like a great idea.

  7. It is so nice to see your pictures and read your stories again. I have missed you! I am delighted life is good, and that you are domesticating. Much fun, that. Love the energy that I am reading in all these posts. Hooray!


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