This was the first weekend in a million years where there was actually time to get something done around the house -- and I was sick as a dog. Actually, I'd been fighting illness all week - one of those feverish, migraine-laden, sore-throat kind of illnesses that suck the energy right out of the body and reduce the brain to mush.
Quite frankly, I didn't want to do anything. Except maybe watch television and sleep. Not necessarily in that order.
But my lovely wife had more than enough energy to make up for it. She tackled the basement and the second-floor bedrooms and made lots and lots of progress.
Adam helped, too. He actually got all his stuff down in his new basement room!
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| Cheryl's office! |
Of course, it took a little bit of doing to get the last bit of bedroom furniture out, which was one of the bunk-beds; its' mate was in Deb's old bedroom, now the Sewing Room. So we had to find all the parts needed to bunk the beds, then take the bed apart so we could move it over to the Sewing Room and then put them both back together.
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| The last vestiges of Adam's old room |
Now we are prepared for the eventual appearance of visiting family. Or just guests. Short guests. Whose feet don't stick out the other end of the bed. Or perhaps just adventurous young people who want to relive their childhood.
For now, they're just being used for "matress storage".
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| Blast from the Past: Bunked Beds! |
Meanwhile, I finally got to move my rolling computer cart out of the basement study and put together some semblance of an office myself. So Cheryl and I can be in the same office! What fun!
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| A place for Dad's office |
Now that all the work was done, it was time for a nap. In the basement. On the futon. Which has been very carefully placed in the corner, out of the way. With a radio on the shelf playing classical music (or soft jazz). Some soft pillows. A warm Afghan.
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| Futon in the Corner Pocket |
I am so ready for a nap now!
3 comments:
Hey there, it is looking good in your house.. And if the beds are short-it won't bother me.
Looks like the weekend wasn't a total loss. You two (three) accomplished a lot and it looks good.
In the old days, that front room would have been called the "Parlor".
G'pa G
And in the very old days, the children were not allowed in the parlor. It was kept prim and neat in case someone should come to call, upon which they would be escorted to said parlor and entertained until such time as they should depart or be invited for dinner. One of my favorite stories is from one of the Little House books, the one about Almonzo's growing up. His parents had left the children to do for themselves for a few days (back then it was ok) so the older sister proceeded to tell them what to do, most particularly, stay out of the parlor! Almonzo took it into his head to make black sooty marks all over the expensive wall paper his mother had so lovingly installed on the walls of that parlor. His sister was appalled, and they were all terrified of the consequences, but all they could do was try to clean it up and repair the damage. So by the time the parents got home, the children, or maybe just the sister, had succeeded in covering up the unsightly stains with some wallpaper scraps, and mother was never the wiser. It was much funnier the way Laura Ingalls Wilder told it, but that is what I think of when I hear the word "parlor."
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