Snapshots from Green Victoria (tedwords) wrote,
Snapshots from Green Victoria

Work in progress.

It's been exactly a month since we moved into the new place. Thirty days to put everything in order, right?

Truth be told, there's still a lot to be done. Our master bedroom, Ashes' room, and the bathroom are all complete. However, the living room still needs shades in the picture window and a stand beneath the television. Even more, the wall separating Theo's room from the kitchen, while built, still needs to be primed and painted, and then framed.

So, we're still a work in progress here. That's not really causing me much anxiety, though. I don't mind taking this one slow and steady. As long as the direction is there, I don't mind taking our time reaching the goal line. The pace feels more comfortable, less stressful, and less expensive. All of which I approve of.

I've often said that men have a bad habit of starting projects around the house and not finishing them. This can be annoying to their partners, but I always look at it this way: be careful of when men start actually finishing projects. It might be a sign that they're looking to move on.

I intend to meander for a while.


My Mark Twain quote for the day: A banker is a fellow who lends you his umbrella when the sun is shining and wants it back the minute it begins to rain.


By the way: I'm quite happy with the GaGa! Her meat dress was absolutely ridiculous, but what she had to say in Maine today about Don't Ask Don't Tell was inspiring almost beyond words.


"I need an official food," said Corb today, as we were shopping for stuff in the supermarket.

"You do," I said. "It's called everything."

"No, I'm serious. Everyone in the house has an official food, that's JUST THEIRS. Theo has his chocolate chips cookies. You have your crackers and cheese. Ashes has her special cookies, which she hides in her bedroom. I need something."

"You have your Blueberry Morning cereal in the morning," I said.

"I need something better than that."

"You have your nom nom juice," I pointed out.

"That's not a food," he replied. "No, I need something really special."

Any suggestions? I need to get Corb a food he can be proud to call his own.
Tags: apartment living
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