Saturday, November 25, 2017

Serious Studio Progress

Sheba got me up at 3:00 this morning to show me where she'd peed on the floor. I take her out and while I'm out there, I get wood and I climb the ladder to let more water into my cistern. Sigh. Some mornings do not go as planned for Paradise.  
But last night I had a hot tub. I hadn’t had one for two weeks and I’m going to do it more often. I forgot how absolutely fabulous it is. And it has coloured lights (see above). How cheesy is that?
I’m so easy to please!
Little things can be so exciting, like moving a chair, bed, sweater hamper and bird feeder.
I moved my bird feeder from a neighbour’s tree to the top of one of my fence posts yesterday. It’s easier to fill and closer to me so I can see the birds better now. I was worried the birds might not take to the new location but they’re buzzing in and out like bees to a hive.
Then I moved my bed. I love how it’s situated in my bedroom now, much more. And that meant moving my sweater hamper out of my bedroom and now it’s in my dining room and my huge new fabulous towels are on top of it for guests to take on their way to the hot tub.
A chair was displaced by the relocation of my sweater hamper. It was just a practical move to put it where it is but I love the homey feeling its new position brings to an important room.

Big things can be exciting too — like the changes happening in my studio. In the photo above you can see how large the studio is now that the ceiling out. Darrell’s just ripping along. Soon the insulation goes in and then the new Pine ceiling; you can see how it will have a kind of barn-like shape. And the part of the wall that is white and behind the ladder will be a window.
The Bengals may have to die.
They are intent on destroying my new chaise longue. First they opened the zipper to get in so I pinned the zipper closed with scores of pins and they just tore holes in the fabric to get inside. So next I pinned a synthetic blanket over the underlining. This morning when I sat on the chaise to light the fire, it meowed so I got some thin wood sheeting I’d saved and closed in the whole bottom of the chaise.
Okay, they’ll live … at least until the next thing. Unless, of course, I die first. It could happen. There are things and pieces of things all over the floor of every room in the house. I’m constantly freaking out because I think I’ve stepped on an animal limb. Either that or I am stepping on an animal limb or tail. It’s a miracle I’m not already in a cast.
They need a toy box and they should learn to pick up after themselves. Is that too much to ask of a puppy and kittens?
My second load of wood it very pitchy. I wear gloves all the time when I handle it. Brandon corrected me. He told me it was sap that was bothering me, not pitch and the bitch in me came up with a juicy line for a future play: “Pitch, darling, is what you lack when you sing. What you have on your hands is sap; It’s cloying and hard to get rid of, like your husband.”
It’s so odd to be a fetcher of water. It’s become part of my daily routine like fetching wood. It makes you conscious of many things taken for granted. Slowly though, I’m getting my cistern filled little by little without drying out the well and burning out the pump.
Click. The switch went on. I haven’t used my iPad for a few years but I decided to try using it so that I could walk around and show Steve and others my place using Facetime. And bingo! I did it. I talked to him while he was in Joshua Tree Memorial Park near Palm Springs. (I remember being unable to afford many long distance calls I wanted to make once upon a time.)
I am so lucky Darrell is here. Rod) keeps leaving instructions I can barely understand to prepare for his arrival with the switch so that my well pump works. I decided to ask Darrell to talk to Rod and he has taken over for me.
By the time he’s finished with the studio and sunroom, he’ll have been working here almost daily for almost two months. I am not going to lose touch. He’s been such a great guy in every way: Honest, reliable, skilled, personable and kind. I came here to be alone but Darrell (and the pets) are a joy to be around.

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