Katdish.net

Happy New Year!

Brand new year, same old me. Even though I try not to make new year’s resolutions, I do tend to think about moving forward this time of year. A big part of this thought process involves evaluating what’s not working anymore and what, if anything, I plan to do about it. A logical answer to “What’s not working anymore” would be either fix it or let it go. But we grow comfortable with things, don’t we? Change can be uncomfortable, and when faced with the worked involved with making things right, sometimes we simply choose to do nothing at all.

Take our master bathroom (please–ba-dump-bump!)

No one has used the shower in there for months. It seems there was a crack in tile where the shower door meets the threshold which caused everything to buckle. The end result being that the shower door no longer closes. Fortunately, this is one of three showers in our house, so we’ve been using the shower in the guest bathroom. This was meant to be a temporary solution until we fixed the shower in the master bath, but we’ve since decided to renovate the entire bathroom. Which is great, but now we’re faced with more decisions to make–new cabinets, tub, etc. Like I said, sometimes it seems easier to do nothing because doing something gets overwhelming.

But my husband got the ball rolling last week:

And honestly? Even though I still really like how I’ve decorated the bathroom

I think maybe I like it more for sentimental reasons than practical ones. The faux finish on the walls? I did it myself. Actually, probably one of the first times, if not the first time I’ve done so. The window coverings? My mom sewed them. She also made the bedding and window coverings in the master bedroom, which coordinates with the master bath.

If the bathroom gets redone, so does the bedroom. And even though these rooms have looked like this for 9 years, I’m still having a hard time letting go. Mostly because of the hard work involved in creating these rooms. Not so much mine, but my mom’s. But it’s time to move forward. There’s a loose tile on the tub held up by duct tape. Nothing says “elegant bathroom” like tile held together with duct tape.

And the cabinets have seen better days.

Soon begins the process of moving forward. I anticipate things getting a whole lot messier before the process is complete.

Change is messy sometimes, and almost always pulls us out of our comfort zones.

But I’m anticipating something better and more functional after the chaos.

I’ll let you know.

Got any projects that need starting?

image courtesy of photobucket.com

Monday marked the first day of FREEEEEEDOOOOOOOM!!!! the kids going back to school after their week long spring break. It was nice to have everyone home last week, but I must confess that towards the end of the week all that togetherness was starting to harsh my mellow. Me likes my alone time.

Since it’s now officially springtime and whatnot, I decided it was high time to spruce up the front porch. I’ve been wanting to get some rocking chairs to put out there since we moved into this house. And since we’ve lived here for 8 or 9 years, I thought I would find some over the weekend, thereby missing the official 10 year procrastination mark. Besides, I figured I could enjoy my morning coffee out there for the next couple of weeks before temperatures and humidity rise to levels capable of melting my face off.

After two unsuccessful shopping ventures Friday and Saturday, I finally found two black arirondack rockers at Garden Ridge Pottery on Sunday afternoon. If y’all don’t have a Garden Ridge Pottery in your neighborhood, I suppose the best way to describe it would be Hobby Lobby meets Pier One meet Oriental Trading Company. Sort of. They sell furniture, plants, silk flowers, housewares and “miscellaneous”.

"miscellaneous"

Once we got the chairs home, assembled and out on the porch, it became evident that the new addition didn’t really complete the look I was after. The term “putting lipstick on a pig” comes to mind.

The front door needed refinishing, the windows were dirty, the large pot of dirt out there needed filling and the impulse buy of two ferns from the grocery store needed to be hung. An ambitious project, but I was ready, willing and able to accomplish everything I wanted to accomplish on Monday. I went to bed Sunday night with every intention of getting to work on my project bright and early Monday (mid) morning.

Yeah…

That was before I woke up in-explicitly at midnight and couldn’t get back to sleep. I tried reading. That seemed to work until I turned off my book light, set down my kindle and shut my eyes. Wide awake again. I eventually got up and went to the couch, figuring I would fall asleep watching the television. Three and a half hours later, I was exhausted and a little perplexed why Animal Planet would devote a 30 minute time slot to Mike Tyson and his dream of pigeon racing. But I digress…

from nypost.com

My point is (and I do have one), what I wanted to do was get the kids off to school and go back to bed. I was tired, grumpy and completely out of sorts. I didn’t feel like going to Walmart, buying hooks, potting soil and something to put in the pot of dirt. I didn’t feel like doing all that stuff I told myself I was going to do. And honestly, my world wasn’t going to come crashing down if I chose to go back to bed and leave all that stuff for another day.

But you know what?

I went to Walmart.

I refinished the door.

I potted a fern in the pot of dirt.

I hung the ferns.

I even dragged the spring wreath out of the garage.

I did all the things I set out to do. And yes, I was even more exhausted when all was said and done. But sometimes you have to suck it up and do the things you set out to do. You keep your promises and follow through with what you said you were going to do. Even if those promises are made to no one else but you.

Now, to get some flowers planted!

Sometimes especially then.

My first new visitor.

This post is part of the One Word at a Time Blog Carnival: Goals, hosted by my friend Peter Pollock. To read more posts on the topic, please visit him at PeterPollock.com

There is a blue house sits at the end of my street. I would estimate its age to be 25 to 30 years. This is relatively new in many parts of the country. Where I live, in the Land of Shiny and New, it is positively prehistoric.

After being on the market for several months, the house recently sold. The previous occupants were an older couple—not elderly, just older. The woman has several health issues and the house’s upkeep simply proved too daunting a task for them.

Being curious (nosy) by nature, as soon as I saw the For Sale sign in the yard, I looked up the listing on the internet. The pictures of the house’s interior continued the theme from its exterior—outdated and dilapidated.

I got the feeling as I looked at the pictures that what my eyes saw was very different from the eyes that must have taken those pictures. Where I saw the reality of worn carpet, cracked plaster and outdated fixtures, the eyes behind the lens of the camera saw what the house once was. The memories within the walls of the house and in the hearts and minds of its inhabitants served as rose colored glasses, preserving a beauty that has long since faded.

The previous owners have left. Work crews have descended upon the house and have begun the task of renewal. Overgrown bushes and trees are being pruned, dead plants are being dug out of the flower beds. I’ve counted three rather large trailers filled with branches and debris so far, and they’ve barely made a dent into the overgrowth. Drywall, insulation, doors and fixtures lay together in a large heap on the driveway. The overcast, cold day adds to the ugliness of the scene. To the workers, it is just another job; the stripping away of the old and useless. The mess is temporary and will soon be cleared away so new life can be breathed into the house by yet another group of workers. Eventually a new family will move in with a fresh start at creating new memories.

The renovation of this little blue house on the corner holds a distinct advantage over the renewal that sometimes must take place in our lives. Because while the previous occupants of the blue house have moved away and do not have to witness to pruning and/or demolition of those things that no longer serve their intended purpose, we are a captive audience to the sometimes painful yet necessary pruning, demolition and reconstruction that must take place within us in order for us begin anew.

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This blog post is a submission into “Beginnings” writing project hosted by lovely and talented Laura Barkat over at Seedlings in Stone