Friday, July 3, 2015

Power Tools And Dancing Don't Mix Well


This is the scene right now. Home office. Coco is pacing and barking at virtually everything. He doesn't like change. Over the past 3 years, we've switched rooms several times and rearranged furniture on a dozen occasions. Each time, it jostles his routine and demeanor. Sophie is hiding under the bed. She doesn't much care for loud noises. Lobo is oblivious to everything. As long as he's got his 2 favorite Skinneeez and his beds and pillows haven't been disturbed, he's all set.

Regardless of how our kids cope with change, their well-being during this process is our number one priority. That includes lots of breaks to sit on the sofa with Coco to console his anxiety. And, spending 20 minutes here and there, on our tummies in the bedroom, chatting with Sophie and bribing her to come out from underneath the bed (carrots and biscuits work like a charm), and making sure Lobo had his security toys. What should have been a 3-hour project turned into 6 hours.

I'm at my desk swallowing my pride. I've spent the last few hours taking items off the wall and shelves, vacuuming, dusting, using Spackle on old nail holes, painting over the Spackle once dried and I did attempt my hand at using the power drill. However, that came to a quick halt. I was doing okay until I added music to the equation. I can't listen to music and not move. Long story short, using power tools and shaking my groove thing doesn't mix well. I almost stabbed my hand. Lisa gave me the look. I surrendered the power drill.

After almost 3 years of living here, I thought we had it just right. Three bedrooms. One bathroom. We're happy with the living room. The kitchen is a joyous area to dwell in. Our bedroom is nestled in the back room off the kitchen. The biscuit room, also off the kitchen, serves its purpose. The home office, the largest extra room in the house, is spacious and allows for two desks, a bookshelf and lots of extra space so I don't feel cramped.

Over the years we've furnished our home with unique finds, ample furniture and whatever else struck our fancy. We arrived at that comfortable point where we said, "This is it...." We have no extra room for additional furniture pieces or wall decor. Aside from replacing our sofa (over 20 years old) and our bed (we seriously need a king sized bed), we're content.

Then, Grammy passed away at the end of last month.

After the rest of the "family" took what they desired, valuables were rightfully distributed, and the mound of the undesirables lingered, it was brought to our attention that a love seat, washer & dryer and a tote of "stuff" was put aside for Lisa and me.

Loveseat?

Initially, we had discussed disposing of our reclining sofa. My parents purchased it over 20 years ago. During transport from point A (New Hampshire) to point B (Connecticut), it had endured more than what its fragile frame could handle...almost. After moving the sofa from one end of the living room this past winter, alone...well, one section had separated slightly. I used my body weight to push it back together.

Meh. 

No doubt, our sofa was on its last leg. The temptation to dispose of it was an easy one. However. Big. Huge. However. Replacing it with a love seat? Was that feasible? Two adult women and 3 kids? I visualized movie night. Nope. Wasn't going to work.

The alternative? Move stuff around in the home office and convert it into a combination home office-living room area. The room was large enough. It would give us a second room to lounge in. The kids would enjoy another "sofa" to nap on.

That's what we're doing today. And tomorrow...Lisa and Char will make the trip to Massachusetts to collect the goods.

Once this project is complete...that's it.


On a side note, here's the matching chair to our ancient sofa...circa late 1990's. Lisa. My parent's living room. Christmas Eve. I have no idea what happened to the chair. Maybe the set was divided after my parents divorced a year later? Who knows....



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