When I return from vacation, I am energized. I'm ready, like Five, to take on the world. Sometimes, this is a reaction to sleeping on an uncomfortable bed for two weeks. I'm so anxious to return to my familiar comforts, that I'm willing to ditch the lazy pace and head home. Other times, I'm so relaxed from the respite that I arrive at the homestead full of vim and vigor. Such is the case this year.
I have several home renovation ideas brewing, most of which require minor construction. This type of thinking makes the Captain nervous. He likes his walls to remain where God, or a project manager, put them. I've reassured him I won't be demolishing any sheetrock, but he's leery. Apparently, I damaged my credibility when I banged a hole in the kitchen wall of our last house, in a desperate attempt to get heat into our three-season porch.
Mostly, the projects are about creating new areas for the kids to hang out. Away from one another. We are at that point in age ranges where we need to unmesh, for the sake of all concerned. Plus, I am trying to create space if Mom Mom and Pappou want to stay when they are home from Florida. And the lovely Erin needs a room, too, for all the times she visits, and tries mightily to bring order to our chaos. If any of you need a place to bunk, I'm sure I can figure that out, too, because I love space planning. It's so much more fun than cleaning.
Right now, I am knee deep in laundry, which is seriously stressing my project buzz. My get-up-and-go is unhappily idling in neutral, as I wash voluminous mounds of sandy linens to be boxed and stored for future seaside vacations. I want to be sorting, and emptying, and throwing things away! I want to be unburdened of the old, and clean-swept for the new! I want to create more space, so I can fill it with more people!
And that, folks, is my own particular brand of goggle-wearing, karate-chopping crazy.
I have a desire, deep within me, for wide open spaces. I have no use for neighbors, and I'm happy to use only one hand to count the number of my true friends. But I've acquired children and family and pets over the years like they were the last items at an auction. I can't reconcile it in my brain. It's not logical. Well, that could be the answer right there!
I am not always logical. The Captain is the linear thinker in our family. I am the messy, creative one. We aren't polar opposites, of course. Our marriage is more a series of checks and balances, with a lot of common ground in the middle. It's how we all wish our government actually worked. And it's why I know that when I go clean the garage, he'll be so happy that I got rid of all the junk, he won't mind when I throw up some walls and let Two use it as a guy-cave. Likewise, when I move the teenagers to the big room downstairs so Mom can sleep upstairs, he'll agree. Because he loves my family, as I do his.
Love isn't logical. But it does require space. So, I'm off to make some more.
What projects loom on your horizon?