I haven’t posted much lately because there’s nothing to post. The day I never thought would come is approaching: Phase I is winding down.
Except for the requisite weeding, the yard is pretty much done for this year. Much to the relief of our garbage men, I’m sure.
I’m still longing for my closet, but because we have zero storage space (even the shed is full now), we need to get all the sanding and staining done at one shot, and that means a few days of sunny weather and no plans.
I can’t convince Joe to buy anything right now, and don’t want to spend my energy trying. It appears I’m going to need it later; the other day he offhandedly remarked that he couldn’t see us buying any new furniture until Phase II.
The rest is just more unpacking and organizing minutia. So I guess I could relax and enjoy the rest of the summer.
But I won’t, not quite.
Because every time I try vacuum in the living room and remember we have only one working outlet there, or haul buckets out front to water the plants because we don’t have a hose bib there, or see kitty litter all over the kitchen floor because we can’t keep the box in the garage until we punch a door in the adjacent living room wall, I think: I can’t wait for Phase II.
And then I shudder.