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Monday, May 03, 2004

For those of you patiently wondering when I'll write something new here, I apologize! I'm expending all my creative urges on picking out paint colors for my walls (inside the house) and then packing stuff. My bad luck with contractors had me thinking I was looking at next Fall for finding someone who could do the job... the sun seduces painters here into rashly taking outside jobs assuming that it will still be sunny next week. Counter to our usual Spring here, that has paid off for them this year, but not for me! But Friday I found someone who didn't have 5 jobs promised since the rain started last Fall, and was reasonable enough that I could afford it, and so now I suddenly have a painter coming today (Monday.)

I'm a chatski (there's probably a good Yiddish spelling for that but I don't know it) collector which creates difficulty for me when it comes to getting the house ready for this task. It's also readily apparent to anyone who comes over that I need another bedroom for storage and office and sewing/art stuff. So I'm literally busting out of the closets and attic into various sections of the house, which added with my coffee table type clutter on most surfaces (what do you mean you don't have 35 different ethnic items such as instruments, baskets, figurines, candles... plus a set of nice carved bird calls on your mantle?) means lots of packing. And I'm trying to throw some stuff out. I finally figured out that every pen I've replaced in the last 6 years ended up on top of the dryer in various containers. Why the laundry room? Who would look there for one? But when I get to the bottom of the pile of stuff, there are at least 20 pens. A couple of stray buttons. All those single socks that don't have partners (ok so I never found a date in the laundry room, and neither did they, so out they go!). A cup with a bunch of change that was retrieved out of the washer. A bin filled with pet supplies. A basket with laundry supplies like dryer sheets and stain remover. And 20 pens at the bottom of it all. What can I say? I need either a psychiatrist or a relationship with a neat freak, or possibly an extra 15 hours a week to put things away. And to throw out lots of stuff so there's room for the other stuff. But here we are, (necessity is the mother of hmm, not invention, maybe motivation) doing it now, so I'm not going to have too much time for blogging this week.

If you were going to paint your bedroom any color in the world, which would you pick and why? Something vibrant and alive? Calm and soothing? Plain and unassuing?

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