Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Where You Been Girl?

Remember those games at the fair where you shoot the water gun into a clown's mouth and the horses go racing along? I'm hanging onto one of those horses and it bucks and stops, then lurches ahead before stopping again. That, boys and girls, is exactly what life is like in my fast lane these days.
I used to love going to the fair or the carnival when I was little, riding all the rides. I can still remember when I was about 10 and a neighbor invited me to go camping with her family at the beach. We bought little sailor hats with our names spelled out in glitter and we rode this little roller coaster that was truly for babies...just my speed. My favorite ride was the Tilt O Whirl. Spinning in those seats as they spun around, up and down, in a larger circle, everyone squealing.

Then of course I grew up and we went to more fabulous amusement parks like Disney Orlando, where the rides were just spectacular to look at, whether you stood in the line and actually rode them or not. But with age came motion sickness. I can get sick riding to Myrtle Beach. No kidding. Flat, straight roads do me in unless I'm behind the wheel. But I tell you this because my "new kitchen" is supposed to be like those fabulous new amusement parks. Except it still isn't.
Come to my house...enter my world...and you'll feel like you're at a not-so-amusing carnival. The first floor is now free of carpet. I've got fabulous hardwoods that beckon you from room to room ... no more breaks where hardwoods met carpet. No sirree, it's simply divine.

But that's where the real roller coaster of life truly begins. The only appliance in the kitchen is the fridge. Shiny, gorgeous, spectacular. Top of the line. Best of the best. French doors open to the fridge. Not one but 2 drawers contain frozen foods at the bottom. The control panel on the door has so many buttons that I couldn't operate it. Turns out one of them said LOCK, and until it was pressed to unlock the buttons, blondes like me were foiled. Go ahead. Laugh. I admit it's funny. Now.

I feel like I've approached one of my favorite rides, the swings. I've chosen my seat, attached the chain, and I'm smiling as I hold on, swinging my feet, waiting for it to start circling slowly at first, then as it picks up speed, I'm lifting up higher and higher, spinning out further and further. Oh yeah, that's me. Circling and spinning.

Except that I'm not. I'm still down there on the ground, swinging my feet, waiting for it to crank up. And waiting. And waiting. Hello! I've been without a kitchen for 3 weeks! It's time to crank this baby up, don't you think?

Those incredibly beautiful new cabinets went from the garage to the living room and now they wait where my table & chairs used to be, in front of the bay window. Covered in dusty plastic. Sitting on flattened boxes to protect my great new flooring. They're being installed on Friday morning at 9am. Yeah, that's the plan. We'll see.
Have I even picked out the granite for my fabulous new countertops? Nope. Do I want to make a decision? Well, duh, of course I do! But life keeps getting in the way. I know I don't want anything with green in it. Or brown. Blue? Did we know you could get blue? Holy Hannah, there's Nile blue and Azure blue and Aquamarine blue. Surely that's not what I want, is it? Won't it be like those shiny blue cars sitting on the lots that catch your eye, but you tell yourself there's no way you're gonna love that color 5 years from now when it's finally paid for, so you go for the black. I can honestly say when I'm at the carnival selecting my cup or horse or swing, I'm never gonna pick a blue anything. Why do they have to give me so many choices? But tomorrow's the day. I'm determined to select my favorite 3 and then put on a blindfold and pin the tail on whatever donkey winds up in front of me. I'm not kidding. That's the plan.

That way they can install the cabinets on Friday morning and on Friday afternoon they'll make the template and get the show on the road. I should have a sink and countertop installed in one week. Can you hear the gears on the swings? Sounds like the humming's gettin' a little louder.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I still have no washer & dryer hooked up. I took delivery of them. They're just in boxes. Along with that snazzy new convection oven and built-in microwave that's waiting to be built-in once those cabinets are hung. And yes, the rumors are true. They delivered not one, but TWO top of the line dishwashers with pot scrubbers and food grinders. And yes, there are only two of us living in the house. And yes, we eat out, often.
My new pantry has hardwoods and a door, but the walls aren't even finished enough for primer. Which is just as well because we can't decide on paint colors anyway. I like that Organza, which is just a whisper of blue, so tranquil that I'm sure I'll be calmer for choosing it. But I also liked that pale green. Oh, and the yellow is pretty impressive as well. These colors are so pale that I tell you now they really do have color in the cans. I'm ever hopeful that once we decide about a color palette we'll actually be able to see it on the walls. We've looked at Silver Seed for 7 years and it's so pale that it's almost white.
Me, the queen of color. The woman with the bright yellow and intense purple walls in my studio. Me, with that bold black & white checkerboard floor. Me, with the intense Tuscan Sunset gold in every other room on the second floor. Yep, the same me wanting just a whisper of color on the first floor.
And did I mention that we've been shopping for a bar height table and chairs for the kitchen...with no luck whatsoever. And we've been shopping for new Oriental rugs, again with no luck. Kinda hard to buy rugs when you haven't picked a wall color for a single room. Sorta like trying to pick out that granite. I've been swallowed up. My clothes are in the front bedroom. Mind you, the drawers are no longer in the chest. They're stacked on the floor. On a thick blanket of course.
And hanging clothes were moved from the lower racks of the master closet to the closet of the middle guest room. Except that the shoe storage units and ends tables and lamps and clothes hampers and framed art and beds and nightstands are stacked to the ceiling blocking those closet doors. And did I mention that I haven't had a laundry room in 3 weeks? Don't ask.
The puppies are still camping out at Grandma's house, being spoiled to within an inch of their lives. She gets up at all hours to check on them. (I can just see her trying to get close with a mirror to confirm that they're breathing.) And of course though she tip-toes, she wakes them. And then they're up and shaking off the sleep and ready to go outside for a walk. Because Granny gives them a treat of some kind every single time they go out!! And then she tells me how they sleep til 9am. Well I reckon they do Mother! You wake them up in the middle of the night and then give them food so they can't go back to sleep!
She loves walking them on the double lead. If Mercedes goes right, Mini automatically goes with the flow. And if one stops to look left, she swears they're like conjoined twins, both moving in one fluid motion. And she loves watching their little rearends twitch as they walk. Though she's not happy when they stop still and then one barks. Because the other one barks. And then one by one, every dog in the neighborhood barks. Which makes them bark even more. I'd bet her neighbors will be glad to see those little Scotties packed up and sent back to Apex. Sooner rather than later.
I can't imagine what they'll think of my shiny new floors. I also can't imagine what it's going to cost to keep their little nails trimmed so they don't scratch my shiny new floors. Think I could get them to wear socks? Now how funny would that be, watching them slip and slide. Pretty funny I bet. Nah. If Grandma finds out she'll accuse me of abuse and she'll come take them away from me. Trust me, she's looking for any excuse.
So when you don't see a new post on here on a regular basis, picture me chained into that swing, waiting for lift-off. Or get real and picture me with paint swatches and granite samples, plundering around trying to find something clean to wear. Now that's reality folks.
Mother, can I come visit the puppies and bring a few more loads of laundry? And can we have strawberry cake? Or maybe some of your homemade apple turnovers? Something that doesn't require reheating in a microwave since it's still in a sealed box.
There's something about having the coffee pot and toaster oven in the studio that doesn't please me. But that's only fair. Someone who shall remain nameless doesn't care for eating his meals in my studio. Particularly since I keep giving him his take-out dinners on paper plates with plastic utensils. That noise you hear is him grinding his teeth with displeasure. Picture me smiling. (Why I'm laughing out loud as I type this.)
So I'm here. I'm happy. Even when I'm climbing stairs that no longer have carpet, but also don't have new wood either. I'm smiling at bedtime when I slather my feet with body butter and then can't climb out of bed without finding my monkey bedroom shoes. (Found out the hard way that I left footprints all over my new bedroom floor. Lots of cleaning. Not smiling. But lovin' the look of those floors nonetheless.)

I've not lost my sense of humor, though there are moments, frequent moments, that I'm convinced I'm losing my mind. The master bedroom contains that monstrous king-sized bed, 2 nightstands, 2 lamps, a table holding the TV and a fabulous credenza that used to reside in the living room. That's all. The living room contains one leather sofa, one leather wing-back chair (don't know where we've put the ottoman, but I suspect it's blocking that darn closet door where all our clothes are hidden), one console table and one flat screen TV. That room has quadrupled in size. I swear it's true. Our voices echo. Gotta find at least one rug. I'm putting that at the top of the list. Well, close to the top. Right under paint color!!
And Michele, you were right about the noise of the ice maker in my new fridge. I'm sitting bolt upright at all hours of the night when ice cubes hit in the bin. Of course that's probably because they told me to toss the ones made in the first 24 hours, so at bedtime last night I chucked them into the backyard, and then when it began to refill, the noise was INTENSELY loud. I'm tellin' you, a rug really needs to be moved to the very top of the list. Yeah, right, like one rug is gonna help muffle that noise.
Come back and visit my blog...not my house. Not yet. I hope to do better with my posting. Really, I do. But I make no promises. I take no prisoners. And clearly, I don't rush in my decision making. Who knew?

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