We hung pictures, cleared cabinets and purged away. The piles of boxes are diminishing, and the brick a brack is filed away, or sitting nicely in place now. I can't fail to tell you too, that we straightened the garage and shed. woo.hoo., right? It was big. It was hopefully a stepping stone to bigger, better things. I'd like to have done wonderful design projects over the long weekend, but alas, we did not.
If I could take snapshots of my mind and show you our future finished living room, I would. I would also tour you through Gil's new room too, so you could see the "bomb pop" curtains and bright colors we adorn it with. For now, however, those images are safe in my mind. They are unrealized, but that's okay. Hopefully soon.
|Gutter corrected, back of house saved!|
|Bought some flowers for the foot of the evergreens|
|Straightened and organized|
|Cleaned out and organized the shed (and garage)|
Oh my gosh and I almost forgot to tell you. We are getting our house cleaned. I mean scrubbed. The outside. It will be clean at last! Before and after shots are certainly on the way. I am mentioning this because as you are deep in the throes of home ownership, these things matter. These things eventually lift from your shoulders and somehow give you an extra large sense of accomplishment, even if you are only there to decide it's happening. I love seeing the outside of the house come together. It's almost as if the brick coursing bends a little upward to smile. The structure stands a little taller and may even exhale with pride slightly. Maybe. Hopefully.
One more thing...
" Hopefully" is now an accepted adverb, according to the AP Stylebook. Apparently, there was a big debate and hatred of the word as an adverb, or rather hatred for the use of it. For instance, "Hopefully, I can get some sleep one day." It was too vague. The accepted substitute was (until this week) "One would hope that I can get some sleep one day." It says the same thing. I happen to like the word hope, in whatever form it must appear. In some of my darkest hours, I can repeat in my head "hope", and I'd search for it in some alternative or a simple option of fate. HOPE. I would hate to live without it in any way, used in the proper format or not. I am certainly not a wordsmith. I speak and write as if every sentence has a little nerve ending, and my thoughts walk gently across the words. I try to, at least. As I age, I realize this is important to do. My foot only finds my mouth every few months or so these days. Hopefully that's the case...