mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary

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Nesting....

That must be what I am doing. I find myself working on the house in every spare moment and visiting the Home Depot with an alarming frequency. The Home and Garden Network plays constantly in the background as I sand, drywall, or paint my way to what I hope will be a warm and cozy abode. It's true, I've tuned out my Mates of State CD for episodes of Design on A Dime and my new, cute haircut is constantly hidden by a do-rag, my body swaddled in paint splotched overalls rather than vintage dresses.

I talk endless to anybody who'll listen about the merits of the wood stove we purchased (look - ain't she sweet). I dream of the landscaping we will do in the Spring and ponder where one can get a large office desk that isn't either ridiculously expensive or made of the hideous man-made material known as pressboard. I take step by step snapshots of the room where we ripped out the closet and photoshop in various types of bookshelves and paint colors. So far a warm Tuscan yellow and crisscrossed shelves that create diamond sized shelving are looking good!

A few years ago I could have cared less what the place I lived in looked like. Back in the rental days I'd arrange the furniture I had wherever it would fit and call it good as I waited for the lease to run out. Now I find myself perusing Frank Lloyd Wright calendars and wondering how I could convert this 1909 former fishing shack to the Russell W. M. Kraus Residence. I know part of this is the whole Pride of Ownership thing (or POO as Pete likes to say) but I wonder just how much has to do with the countdown to the big 3-O (54 days and counting for those of you playing along at home). After all, we have been in this house for over two years already and it's just now that I'm getting all into home improvement. Why the sudden interest I ask? Why now?

Seriously, I think I might be getting (deep breath) settled in. I feel as though I might be putting down roots. And hot damn, I haven't had roots since I took over after high school. I can see myself here for the long haul. I have fewer thoughts of hitting the road for New Mexico, living in some adobe hut and weaving rugs for a living. I find myself more focused on determining what would make for a better spot for a weekend getaway cabin - someplace near the ocean or a remote mountain locale? Either way, the spots are all within a two hour drive from Seattle.

Anyway, it's all very scary and at the same time it's all very nice - to have a home and to feel at home.

To further endorse that sentiment, I watched the snow fall on the East Coast yesterday and shivered. I've never been a fan of the stuff. I genuinely feel it's to be visited or glanced at from afar (as in at a distance on mountain tops). It's also good in cones with sugary, flavored syrup. The last winter I spent in NY was one of the snowiest I can remember and as December bleed into January and January ran into February, and the snow got more and more covered in car exhaust and dog urine somehow I knew, I had to leave. It's been a long trip from there to here but it's also been a good one. I've learned a hell of alot about who I am and I've made some wonderful connections with people I'd have never met had I not given this a shot. I've also retained the things I learned beforehand and the friendships I had made. So I gained plenty and lost nothing. Ethel, I hope this last paragraph makes you sleep a little easier tonight.

9:04 p.m. - 2003-12-07

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