Sunday, July 22, 2007

Home Sweet Home, cough, cough.

You never know what you'll find when you pull up carpet. I've been doing some renovating on a place my aunt owns. She's moved to a smaller, easier to maintain place and needed someone to inhabit the old place. I needed more space, so I happily agreed to fill the position. I'm getting a 4 bedroom, 2 bath house with fenced in yard for the kiddies, and it will only cost me around $300 a month to live in (this includes utilities).

However, I decided that I needed to do some major cosmetic surgery before I could claim it habitable enough to move into. This led to removing the carpet, which led to the nastiest cold ever. I've been flat on my back for several days now, barely able to move, speak, or hear. I just got my sense of taste back today, though I'm thinking it's going to be a while before food appeals to me. Not to mention, I'm back in the catch-up mode. The world doesn't stop for the sniffles. I just have one question. How does the laundry pile get so big when you're out of the game for a couple of days? Thank goodness this new place is all one level. There's nothing worse than dragging baskets of laundry up and down stairs when you're under the weather.

I figure that it will be a couple more days before I'm human again. After that, I'll be back at the grindstone, laying new carpet and painting walls. The worst part is over now. All that's left is the fixing up part. This is the part I like the best, when you can see the changes happen right before your eyes. I love the fact that I have a totally blank canvas to work with. I can put my stamp on the place, really make it feel like home. What makes it more exciting is the fact that this is my first home "on my own". I'll have my kids there, of course, so I won't be alone. But, I'll be totally independent and completely responsible for it. Add to that the fact that I'll be decorating it by my own tastes and without having to defer to anyone else, and I'm on cloud-nine.

I didn't know how much that meant to me until I started living with the guy who became my ex-husband. He has a passion for Elvis and power tools that drove me crazy. I had a huge picture of Elvis on my living room wall, figurines on my shelves, dirty power tools on my kitchen table and in the mud room, and I despised it all. If it wasn't Elvis or cordless drills, it was all this tacky, orange Tony Stewart paraphernalia. Seriously, no one takes you as a mature, intelligent and tasteful individual when you have posters of race car drivers and long deceased rock stars on your wall. And did I mention that my ex is 23 years older than I am? At some point as you grow up, it almost becomes a necessity to do away with posters held up with thumbtacks. Perhaps this is one of the reasons I am his third ex-wife.

Anyway, I don't have to worry about that anymore. At least, not until the kids get a little older. Still, I can confine it to their rooms if I must. No more Elvis watching me undress in my bedroom. No more lugging heavy equipment off the table, then sanding the table down so I can sit at it and enjoy a meal. No more beanbag chairs. No more tacky western shirts in my closet. The walls will be the color I wish. The furniture will be arranged the way I like it. And, oh my gosh, I'll have total control of the remote! I'll finally have a place that I can relax in. Well, if I can get rid of this cold first.

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