The excitement over having the coffee maker on my bureau has replaced the joy of the toaster in my living room. My better half suggested that perhaps the coffee maker would be more convenient on a nightstand. To which I suggested a caffeinated IV hookup and bed pans. What’s the point, really, of even getting out of bed? As soon as we do, the dust dance begins.
Even Ray Charles could track our every move in the fine particulates which coat our floors. Two human’s and one canine’s set of prints create a sort of balanced waltz step through the house. (FYI: the balanced waltz step is for people who don’t have anywhere to go) One two three, turn two three, shimmy two three, squeeze two three, watch-it! two three.
As a kicker, with the fun of renovation we’ve had the coldest March on record. The winds howling in last weeks storm laughed at our attempt to keep the draft out of the reno-space. We have a temporary door built between us and “It.” But the door only suggests warmth, cleanliness, a better life beyond. What is actually on the other side of that plywood barrier is half my house, little heat, our main entry and hopefully soon, lots more workers to help us dance our way to the Charleston.
What dance does your home call for?