What to do when you are overwhelmed

You make a list. You carve out time to attack said list. You take it point by point. (or as Ann Lamott would say, "bird by bird"). And it's amazing what a difference it made.

And that sums up my night. Overwhelmed with all that lay ahead at the house, in my life in general and at work, I dug in my heels, hit the ground running, made a list and worked for over 4 hours last night to make a dent. My morning was dedicated to the errands created as a result.

The house is clean; the donated items ready to go; magazines recycled; perscriptions filled; clothes and hangers dropped off at the cleaners; car full of stuff to be delivered, returned or disposed of.

Now if I could just lose 35 pounds, spread the message of "be nice, it's not that hard" and fly my brothers in for the weekend. . .

Balance eludes me

I'm cranky, I'm tired and I am blue. And what bothers me most about this current mood is that I know that I shouldn't be in this funk. What makes it more complicated is that I don't wanna be and I am frustrated by it.

I think that a combination of things have lead to this current state, none of which alone are fatal or even worth getting all gray over. However, for whatever reason, they have all built up and the result is a stressed and tired Ragged.

So, in an effort to turn the tables a bit, I have been attempting to review what has brought me down and balance those things with the reasons I should be on an upswing. Not quite as simple as I suspected, but somewhat effective.

You see, our bathroom is finished and it's truly lovely. But now we are seeing the little imperfections that add up to some disappointment. This too shall pass, but for the time being, we are picking that baby apart and that drives me nuts.

A busy weekend, remodeling, general upheaval and nights away from the house have all added up to mayhem at Chez Ragged. Drywall dust still coats everything, we ran out of wash cloths as laundry hasn't been a priority, framed photographs once happily on display in our living room now clutter my desk, cat litter is scattered across our bedroom floor and I have no idea where the mail from the past few days has landed . . . and the list goes on. For someone that craves order and admits to being obsessive-compulsive, this is a tough situation and right or wrong increases my anxiety.

This gets even messier when you realize I have no idea when I am going to tackle the mess that is our house, we are planning to paint this weekend (creating additional messiness all around) and have guests coming on Sunday to "inspect" our progress thus far, sure to provide not support, but criticism and general pessimism. Cynical and I, you see, are alone in our quest for a new place. Support and encouragement from those that should be providing it is non-existent. Flying solo on this project, it seems.

Lots of other "issues" are scattered in there: such as the fact that as much as I love spring and summer, the thought of showing any of this overweight and pale flesh literally makes me ill.

I miss my family, my brothers in particular. I am wishing they were near. I am wishing I could invite them over for dinner (even though the house is a wreck), open a bottle of wine, play some music and talk until one of starts dozing off in the chair.

And then there's money: money has always stressed me out: saving it, spending it, owing it, reserving it, making it. I have big plans for this move and big plans call for big bucks. I can handle that, it's all of the things in between that keep sucking more of my fundage than I like.

And then there's work. . . enough said.

There are so many reasons that none of this should matter, so many strong and substantial reasons such as the fact that I am loved, truly loved by Cynical. Each night I know that the man beside me is not only the love of my life (gush, gush), but the person that will stick with me through thick and thin, sick and sin.

And I am blessed today with a huge window that opens onto an incredible sunshiney day. It's gorgeous outside. If I am lucky, there will be a little bit of it left as I head out today at lunch and away from work this afternoon.

We have a gorgeous bathroom. Granted the shower curtain I chose is much less conducive than I expected, but it is truly wonderful.

Yesterday I got a chance to see new photographs of my niece. And she is lovely, and tiny and sweet. And soon she'll have a little brother or sister to call her own, to pester, to protect and to lean on.

I have friends. That's one blessing that I am reminded of daily. . . online and offline. . . and those relationships are truly important to me and precious in so many ways.

It's all about striking a balance between the blessings and the frustrations. Pardon me while I try to stack the deck in my favor.

Random thoughts for a Monday morning

Would it be appropriate for me to hug the contractor?

And, would it be odd for me to ask for the afternoon off so I can go home and take a shower?

Do you have any idea how nice it has been not to carry my goods across town and shower at the Y?

Do you know how funny it is to see my very tall beloved attempt to bathe in our tiny, tiny tub?

Now for some notes that just might more sense, but are certain to still bore you:

-I haven't had an opportunity to thank Cate for hosting the Nudge-Nudge Punny Valentine Contest. The prize was amazing: a copy of Knitscene, an itty-bitty book light, a beautiful bookmark, a handy-dandy one that lets you mark not only the page, but the line as well, and a neato little note pad. That Cate, she's so thoughtful and amazing.

-I have been enjoying my commute much more thanks to some CDs exchanged with Emily, Madretz and Farmwife. Thanks guys, this has been so much fun. . . you are so creative and your taste in music so wonderfully eclectic. I am sorry it took so long for me to thank you publicly.

-I finished my Green (Brown) Gable. All that is left is a little tucking in of the ends. I am slightly disappointed. Not in the pattern, but instead in the way my body looks in it. I had somehow expected the sweater to work miracles.

-I started on Glee and am so pleased with the way it's going. I am using Knitpicks Andean Treasure in Sunset Heather. Really loving the feel of the yarn and the color will be nice this fall.

-In addition, I have the yarn to make this sweater, with the base color being a beautiful brown. The yarn is incredible in texture: a wool/silk blend. Hope to work on it tonight at knit group.

-Since it seems we have made big strides in moving toward a new house, I am suddenly overcome with the desire to rid our current abode of anything and everything. I have plans to bring a box home with me each week, to fill said box and then donate the box of goods. I wish you guys all lived nearby, because I'd plan a big ole swap with my books and other stuff. Sound like fun?

It makes me so very happy

You know that you have officially been inducted in the Nerds' Association of the Midwest whenever you use the remaining money available on your Target gift card to purchase a brand new, shiny and full-of-potential deluxe binder. Isn't she lovely?

Funny thing is that even though my old one was worn out and shabby, it was kinda sad to bid farewell to her; and it was a ceremony of sorts, switching to the new one.

And life only gets better. . . Cynical bought us a label maker. What have I done to deserve all of this organizing goodness? (Perhaps, talk incessantly about the benefits of owning one, rant about how it will change our lives forever, bring world peace and a cure for all that ails us.)

Imagine the possibilities.

(PS: The labeler almost makes up for all of the times that he changes the XM station whenever I say, "I really like this song.")

Project Spectrum: Blue

It's Sunday and for that very reason, my mood is in keeping with the February-March Project Spectrum color theme. Blue. I am blue that my weekend is over, yet again.

I can't blame it on partying, mayhem and living the high life. Our weekend was simply eaten up by adding layers of clothing on top of layers of clothing, home projects, lots of television and excessive closet organization.

On Friday, Cynical and I met up for dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants and rented a few movies before I noticed our lips were purple, a sure sign it was too cold to be out and about.

Yesterday I spent the entire day inside, having learned my lesson after attempting to brave the cold the previous night. Every hour on the hour I added a layer of clothing: another pair of socks, an additional fleece shirt. . . This was followed by either Cynical or I saying, "It's cold in here."

In a flurry of home improvement energy, we removed the poorly installed and damaged paneling from our bathroom in preparation for a visit by a remodeling firm later this week. As for the rest of the day, the details would only bore me further to type them: television, knitting of a hat with ear flaps, housework and something that resembled a nap. In between there was some cooking, lots of coffee and some more discussion of exactly how cold it was outside.

Today, however, was much more exciting. Hold onto your seats. There were pancakes and sausage, there were tacos, there was a trip to the Y, a stop at a used bookstore, a visit to the library, the purchase of sheet protectors (which made this obsessive-compulsive very, very happy) and a closet overhaul. Riveted. . . well it's always nonstop mayhem at Chez Ragged, excitement around every corner.

And now we sit, still discussing the cold, watching very bad television, burning CDs and fretting over the week ahead.

I assembled a few "blue books" in honor of Project Spectrum's theme for February and March.

Target card turmoil

I thought they loved me. I thought they cared. I assumed it all came from a good place.

I was wrong. What were they thinking? Being all generous and giving me lots of Target gift cards. Don't they know that it only sends me into OCD* overload?

I can sum it up in just a few words: too. many. options.

I have bunches of money in the form of Target gift cards, gifted to me by well-meaning individuals over the Christmas holidays. This shouldn't be a problem, given I can drop the equivalent of a year's salary in the blink of an eye at my beloved Greatland.

The problem is that I am trying to spend wisely. I don't want to come home with a trunkload of, let's say, sundry storage containers, stationery, fuzzy socks or pajamas. I want to buy something we have craved, something we have forgone due to cost, something we need, something as exciting as new sheets, a vacuum or perhaps a television to accompany our treadmill. I simply cannot decide.

You see, there are too many options. Give me a gift card to the bookstore, I come home with books. Slide me a yarn store gift certificate, I come home with yarn. Give me a card to Target, I could come home with anything. . . and I mean anything ranging from those awesome Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies to the anniversary edition of "Grease" on DVD complete with the faux leather jacket.

Oh, the choices.

*Obsessive-compulsive disorder.

The party is over

Today marked the last day of my extended vacation, and I must admit I am sad to know that tomorrow morning it's back to the same old grind. I wish I could say I was renewed and ready to go back, but in reality, I really wish I had more time.

I also know that Ragged needs income to support her lavish and extravagant lifestyle* and that makes employment a necessity. (*Butter cookies and yarn are not cheap.)

Cynical decided to dig right into our resolutions and conned me into helping him clean out our linen/utility closet. I must admit that it actually felt good to shed several boxes of stuff. That's the upside. The downside is that now I want to tear into every closet, drawer and cubby hole in the house. Not a good thing as it seems Cynical ran out of steam at about the second closet shelf. So, now our living room is full of bags and boxes bound for a local charity. Gone are an over abundance of towels, one too many foot creams and assorted magic markers.

After our decluttering flurry, we met my folks at their house for a traditional New Year's Day lunch comprised of pork roast, vegetables, black-eyed peas (not so Fergalicious), cabbage and soda bread.

Our afternoon has been full of stuff you gotta do to get ready to go back to work. Ugh. It really is time to go back to the real world. I can only hope the transition is a smooth one. Maybe some peppermint ice cream will soften the blow.

I am certain that Izzie is ready for both of us to get out of her hair, literally.

Vacuums are boring

Recently I won a sizeable gift card and I get to choose where I want to spend it. I had known this was coming, and decided long ago that we need a new vacuum cleaner. You see, with all of the cat hair and litter, (and the fact that Cynical has repeatedly rolled the cord in such a twisted way that it is literally falling apart and is an electrical shock hazard) well ours has taken a beating.

Now that I will soon have my hands on said gift card, well I am having second thoughts. I am wishing for something a little sexier, like an XM radio system or maybe tins and tins of butter cookies. Due to this waffling, the following e-mail conversation ensued (juicy tidbits omitted to protect the innocent):

Ragged: Where should I get my gift card from?

Cynical: Wherever you want to get a vacuum. ; )

Ragged: Do I want XM more?

Cynical: I thought you decided against it.

Ragged: Yep, but a vacuum is boring and involves housework. But we need one.

Cynical: I forgot that we were exciting, hip and happening.

Ragged: Sometimes when I am interviewing myself*, I pretend we are.

Cynical: Do you still do that?

Ragged: No, but I miss it.

*It's a sad, but true and embarrassing fact that sometimes when left alone for too long, I interview myself. I have some surprisingly insightful answers. I know that there is at least one of you out there that does the same. Fess up.

PS: Blogger commenting sucks. I have tried numerous times to post on the new beta sites, but haven't had any luck. For those of you allowing anonymous comments, I have been using that method, including my "name " in the comment. Otherwise, I just whine and mope each time they won't let me post the comment I just dutifuly typed out. Argh!

On an upswing

Just when I think I need to grab a paper bag and breathe into it deeply, lots of little things come along that remind me that things always get better.

For instance, apparently the noise that my car makes when starting is nothing to worry about. Hear that? "Nothing to worry about." No cost, won't drain my bank account: nothing to worry about. Just a natural noise that my car makes after it's a few years old. It will start when I need it to. I won't be stranded. Life is good.

And tonight I got home and found myself with a few free hours before meeting up with friends for dinner. In that short span of time, I was a task-completing machine. Well oiled. Efficient. Focused.

One of the tasks that I had neglected thus far was the selection of music for my annual Christmas CD. I enjoy making the CDs. I enjoy giving them to my family and friends. However, with my "to do" list growing daily and my calendar booked solid, it was becoming more of a "chore" than a "joy". So, tonight I drug out my boxes of holiday music and started making my selections. And, before I knew it, there they were: 14 songs ready to become the 2006 version of Ragged's Christmas CD.

With a few minutes to spare, I pulled out my rain coat and prepared to greet the wet, cold weather. As I reached into my pocket, I found $4.52. See, things are looking up. . .

If I could only come up with a Christmas wish list to guide my beloved.

Above you see my yarn purchases from Wednesday night. Moving clockwise from the bottom right, the brown and blue yarn is Andes wool in Color 16, destined to be a scarf for me. The pale green is Crystal Palace Cotton Chenille, which will soon be a flower-shaped wash cloth; the green and burgundy is Malabrigo Merino Wool in the China colorway; last, but not least in green is Araucania Natural Wool in Color 40.

Warnings: Calendars can cause panic attacks

I have really been looking forward to my impending vacation. . . that was until I realized that between now and then nearly each of my beloved evenings and weekends is booked, booked solid. That doesn't leave any time for knitting, or watching Christmas movies, or relaxing in front of the tree, or padding around the house in my socks.

I seriously had to sit down and take deep breaths when I realized exactly how little down time I will have. I need my down time.

And some additional random thoughts:

-Big, bad winter weather is coming. They have been heralding it all week, arrival expected this evening. Love snow, hate driving in it.

-I love the holidays, but there is one thing that could drive me to drink regular Coke: cooking! Seems every single time I turn around there is some potluck or cookie trade or open house requiring me to bring some intricately prepared dessert or finger food. I don't cook. I can't cook. I won't cook. I literally begged my bestest friend in the whole wide world to make cookies for me to bring to an open house next week. I literally begged, borrowed and mooched to get those cookies. Thank you, Queen of Cool.

-My starter on my car is acting up just a little. (But my philosophy is let's take care of it while it's little and before it grows up to be a big bad problem.) December is the worst month for car issues: limited cash flow, time is even more limited, it's cold outside and well, limited cash flow. Cynical assures me that deep breaths will see me through the car crisis. (Note the overstatement and dramatizing of the situation. I was trained well.)

-I went to an open house at a yarn shoppe last night. I bought four skeins of beautiful stuff, which I will reveal later. I am in love with them all. I love them so much I may sleep with them, but not in that way. I also got lots of good old quality time with Kissed Knitter. If only employment and cash didn't get in our way, think of all the gabbing and knitting we would do.

Making a list and checking it thrice

My mother is a list maker. Now, I have been known to make lists, but this lady not only makes the lists, but she marks things off them. And when she puts something on said list, she means business. Nothing stands between her and a swipe of the ink pen.

Yesterday she wanted to go Christmas shopping. It's on her list. When it comes to shopping out-of-town, I long ago (at birth in fact) signed a contract that deems me her chaperone on such excursions. She had established yesterday as her official start. Once established, there is little room for negotiation.

My heart wasn't in it, but I decided to bite the bullet and haul her from store to store. I won't go into detail, but I am certain that I will be sainted for such a measure. I also expect to earn some extra holiday cash from my siblings and their significant others, as I saved them from opening pretty wrapped boxes holding slippers shaped like the heads of sock monkeys, yet another compilation of the works of Edgar Allen Poe and a lamp shaped like a stocking clad leg.

I struck a deal where she had to allow me some quality yarn shoppe time and after some smooth negotiating, we hit the road. I sat down and scrawled some names and ideas on a sheet of paper to guide me and even though I really had no intention of coming home with a single gift, I was able to find a few things while she was distracted by shiny " 50 percent off" signs.

I don't know what it is about Christmas shopping, but it seems completely overwhelming until I purchase that first gift. The first buy is key in kicking my holiday butt into gear.

I generally try to make most of my gifts, or at least include something handmade in each package. With most of my Christmas knitting complete, I am feeling a little ahead of the game, but still a bit shocked to see my list is still quite extensive. The good news is that Christmas is weeks away. The bad news is Christmas is weeks away.

Another shot from San Antonio.

Boo

Life at Chez Ragged is a bit frazzled at the moment. That's not really news, is it? Maybe it's more of a confession.

The weekend was hectic. The weekend was good. The weekend is over.

On Friday we met my folks for dinner and a play, "The Sugar Bean Sisters", followed by nine packets of pictures from their cruise. (You see, I know I bore people, but it's my heritage. A girl can't escape her heritage.) We came home drenched from torrential downpours, our vision blurred from one too many photos of the Panama Canal and one-liners from the play ringing in our head.

Only at Chez Ragged can you complain of lack of storage, whine over the absence of floor space and then buy a humongous treadmill. So, that's what we spent part of our Saturday doing, deciding where exactly this monstrosity would fit. Well, that, lunch out, watching "Match Point" and sweeping water out of our basement.

The removal of a desk, much deliberation and compromising later, we opted to put it in our overcrowded office. It wasn't until Sunday, however, that we moved it into the room, where it sits idle, only being tested for a brief 5 minute trek to make sure it was indeed receiving power. I fear we have purchased a chaise lounge for the cats.

On Sunday we completed what we'd procrastinated the day before, met up with Cynical's family for lunch and play before picking up our own indoor walking track.

After some good cardio-raking, Cynical began dinner and I went to visit a friend who had recently returned from a trip to Guatemala where she picked her son, the most beautiful little boy since Prince E.

I returned to chicken parmesan and a treadmill in need of assembly. Cynical read the directions, I provided the appropriate sized bolt and washer, we did some tightening and there before us stood The Treadmill and a big, huge empty box. (I suspect the latter would do us more good.)

It wasn't a purchase taken lightly, but I must admit that now I worry that it's taken on a life of its own. I am certain in my sleep I heard "Get off your butt and start walking on me" echo through the vents. I fear I am more afraid of the big black contraption than any mask a trick-or-treater will don.

The rest of the night was a mad dash to get ready for Halloween festivities both at home and at work. You see, I am a bit of a cruise director at my place of employment, our own Julie McCoy. Seems I talked us into a "Grease" them and that left me hunting for white socks, scarves, the soundtrack and other bits of garb to help my co-workers move one step closer to the goal: a big pumpkin of candy, the prize for best-dressed.

Oh. . . and we just realized that we leave for San Antonio at the end of the week. Needless to say there are multiple lists being made, frantic e-mailing going on and anxiety swirling.

(It will all come together, but I suspect that due to our complete lack of preparation, which is relative considering I am a self-diagnosed OCD sufferer, the treadmill will sit unused, unless you count holding my suitcase while I contemplate what one wears to Texas in November.)

A clay pumpkin atop our mantle.

XM Radio 101

This weekend I was bitten by a bug. A bug that has caught hold and won't let go.

I want XM radio.

Problem is that I have big dreams of me riding around in my little car, shades on, flipping through stations and being ever so cool (or approaching cool as the case may be), I just don't know where to start on realizing this daydream.

Anyone out there a subscriber? I'd like to pick your brain on equipment and which plan to consider. E-mail me at raggedaroundtheedges(at)hotmail(dot)com and put me out of my misery.

Who me? Weird?

OK, so I am not sure whether to be flattered or offended that Emily actually thinks I am weird enough to be able to list 10 things as proof, but here goes:

1. I don't step on cracks. I also like to take an even number of steps on each slab of concrete. It's tricky, but possible.

2. There is only one thing that can make me gag: dog crap. If I step in it, I literally go insane. It is making me sick to type this.

3. I have literally no memories of high school. I didn't drink in high school and I took Nancy Reagan seriously, so I can't blame it on an alcohol or drug induced haze. It was just uneventful it seems.

4. Four is my obsessive-compulsive number. Whenever I get nervous or upset, I count things in multiples of four (ie tapping my finger, breathing etc.)

5. I slept for nearly 25 years with one foot outside the cover. All of a sudden I just quit doing it.

6. When I get nervous or scared, I literally shake and shiver from head to toe uncontrollably. I did this on my first date.

7. I know all of the words to "Lola" by Barry Manilow.

8. I have every single letter and card ever sent to me. I cannot throw them away.

9. If I think I have hurt someone's feelings, I can't sleep at all. Not even if I have one foot outside the cover.

10. I really, really, really don't like talking on the phone. I dislike it so much that I tend to use my professional voice in hopes that the call will end soon. It has nothing to do with who is calling.

Now, that's not weird, is it?

Tag, you're it.

PS: Have been trying to post about our geocaching weekend, but blogger won't cooperate.

Falling for it all over again

I'm nesting. Before you get all excited and start sending baby booties and breast pumps, I'm not with child. It's the impending autumn that has me prepping our house. You see, I am ready for dipping temperatures and falling leaves; therefore, in my own little way, I am trying to hustle autumn in a little ahead of schedule.

I don't know what's gotten into me this weekend, but I have felt the need to root through all of those boxes scattered around the house, empty out all of our drawers and sort through your books. I feel the need, the need to reorganize.

I also feel the need, as seasons change, to shed stuff, to make room for the new.

Today my clothing and linen closets saw the wrath of Ragged. As did the shoe and bag bins beneath the beds. You see, we have very, very little storage here, so I have to maximize our unused spaces, including the bottoms of closets and the underneaths of beds.

After all was said and done I had a pile of stuff that either belonged elsewhere in the house, somehow having been removed from its appropriate home; a stack of stuff to be returned or given to a new home; and a few items that, well, I still don't know what to do with.

For instance, I am a journal hog. I can't pass up a pretty blank book. Each holds so much promise, the hope of written words, thoughts, dreams and concerns. I have accumulated quite a few and a girl can only do so much writing, so I weeded out a few of the lesser journals. (It's survival of the prettiest around here.) Now, I just have to find them a new home.

Then there are the flip-flops, a summer staple at the Ragged household. However, some of my favorites last year didn't make it into rotation this year, making way for two very basic pair that seemed to accompany my feet on a regular basis.

And for some reason I feel a little more free, a little lighter and a little more ready to tackle the week. Next on the list is a trunk that promises to bring back a wealth of memories. I may need to save that one for a rainy day.

Autumn, come at us. I am ready for you.

If your house is cluttered, so is your mind

It seems that the theory that a cluttered house leads to a cluttered mind is true, particularly at Chez Ragged. I know I have complained. . . errr mentioned. . . . repeatedly that our house is in a bit of a shambles right now. I know that's part of the process, but it's been a little difficult to get much of anything done when you are crawling over a couch to wash your dishes or skirting a desk to go to the restroom. (A little overstated, but you get the picture.)

I can be very scattered at times and it's amazing how this is affecting me, making me even more, shall we say, random in my actions. It gets even more complicated when I look at the calendar and consider the next few days of my life. Between moving furniture, visiting relatives, social engagements and a house in need of cleaning, well there just isn't much room for error.

So, instead of trying to put together a post, I thought I would, well spill some of my random thoughts on you guys. I apologize in advance.

-This is perhaps the cutest baby photo I have ever seen. Soulemama posted the photo on her amazing blog.

-I finished my first Candy Corn sock and I love it. I even managed to turn the heel without incident. The Kitchner at the toe is pretty, save a little snafoo toward the end that I hope to fix this evening. I may forgo working on a second as I am in the midst of a top secret blogger craft exchange. Shhhhh!

-Yesterday in an effort to escape chaos, commune with nature and have some quality time with my beloved, we loaded ourselves up and went to the park for a walk. It had just rained and everything was fresh and damp. I love the colors after the rain, the light is diffused in a way that makes the greens so very vibrant. We had a nice walk, but it was cut short by impending rain, and as soon as we got in the car, the sprinkling began. It was the perfect way to wrap up a day.

-I have bemoaned our current household chaos, but it was nice yesterday to be exiled to one room where I knitted, watched a marathon of "The Closer" and relaxed with my beloved a bit. I don't get such luxuries often. And I love being in my pajamas for the better part of a day.

-I think we should eat more meals at our kitchen table. It's not that I don't love balancing a plate on my lap, but it's seems more personal and focused to sit at the table together. I am going to propose this to my Cynical.

-We have officially made some plans to head north for the 4th of July weekend. In addition, we are going to take Monday off and stretch our weekend into Tuesday. Yipppeeee! If I could do a cart wheel I would, but I can't risk serious injury. I have furniture to move.

-This weekend is Father's Day and I am gifting my dad a t-shirt featuring a Gremlin* and a blues artists compilation CD. My dad will appreciate both, but I hope he knows the shirt is a bit of a joke. *A car. Yes, a car. My parents bought a golf course green Gremlin new in 1974 and still have it, so this is a poke at that rather ludicrous decision.

-And, tell me that the above glider isn't the coolest and wouldn't be the perfect place, outside of a hammock to pass away my afternoons? Click on it for details. God love Restoration Hardware.

How's that for random?

The routine of things

I can be a creature of habit, it's true. I can also be pretty scattered and haphazard.

One area where I hold true is my morning routine. I am not a morning person. I don't hop out of bed greeting the day with open arms and grace. I tend to press the snooze a few times, wander aimlessly down the stairs and start following the same procedures and order to things that I do each morning.

However, with such upheaval at Chez Ragged, everything is a little "off" these days. I used to wander into the living room, turn on the television, open the laptop and catch up on what happened while I slept before I started prepping myself for work.

Now our only accessible television is in our bedroom and Cynical sleeps over an hour later than I do, so flipping the remote would only be rude; and a plastic barrier stands between me and the living room, so I am not quite sure what to do with myself. Yesterday I sat in bed with the laptop, but I suspect my key tapping interupted my beloved's sleep.

This morning I just sat on the couch, now stationed in the kitchen, and decided what to do next. There wasn't a lot I could do, so I simply started the rest of my routine a little early. Sad, isn't it?

The cats are having the same "displaced" feeling. I moved their food bowl and water into the basement where they are staying during the day. They know where it is, they ate out of it all day yesterday, but this morning, they all stood where the bowl normally resides and stared at me. They were ready for things to be "where they are supposed to be."

It hasn't been so bad, really, but it is a bit odd sitting in a big overstuffed chair facing your kitchen sink eating a baby green, feta cheese and cucumber salad, but it kinda shakes things up and I like that.

Last night I just stuck to the bedroom and avoided the mess. I knitted and I read and I watched television. I decided to look upon this as a break from household chores and the need to be productive. It was actually pretty luxurious, listening to the rain, laptop on one side, instruction book and knitting on the other, cats strewn around the room, tea on the table nearby, television buzzing in the background. I may miss my new routine whenever things "go back to normal."

Floor update: The sanding and staining are done and it looks great. I'm a little disappointed that the portion of the floor replaced prior to our watch is a little lighter, but after talking to "The Floor Guy", he said it would darken in time. It's amazing that there is virtually no dust. It's awesome in fact. Today they will coat the floors with three layers of polyurethane. I can't wait to slide on them in my new socks.

I started knitting a sock in yarn I had originally chosen for my first pair. It's Meilenweit Fun & Stripes 80% wool, 20% Polyamide in Color 632. It reminds me of candy corn. See a theme here?

Tight quarters

My fretting yesterday has been replaced by some enthusiasm today, as this morning I will be meeting up with the floor refinishers. Yippeee! It means quite a bit of inconvenience over the next six days, but it will certainly be worth it.

Last night we cleared the remainder of the stuff out of our living room, meaning the heavy loads. With some planning, some patience and lots of lifting, we managed to move it all out and into other rooms. We won't be hosting any dinner parties for a few days, as our kitchen is now housing our living room stuff. Our office is now home to small tables, lamps, our huge television and other assorted items. Our den contains not only den furnishings, but also our kitchen stuff which made way for the couch and chair, ottoman and wardrobe. It's a bit of a maze, but it will keep life interesting.

I wanted to thank each of you for your comments yesterday. I don't handle feeling helpless well and with some of this stuff, well, I am not certain where to start, how much it should cost and where to turn. That leaves me feeling, well . . . helpless.

I should also explain a little bit about our reasoning. The housing market in our city is very, very competitive. We have a few things going against us including our neighbors, the fact that we have one bathroom and we have some electrical that needs to be updated. We also want to get as much for our place as possible in order to improve our future housing prospects. Paint and such is just a way of sprucing it up and making it a little more attractive to potential buyers. Keep your fingers crossed that it all pays off. Plus, if we had planned to stay, it would all be stuff we'd need to do anyway, we just scaled it down quite a bit from our original wish list. Most of my frustration stems from the fact that I really, really wish we could do some of this stuff ourselves. I wanna be handy and save some money.

Above you can see our kitchen loaded to capacity with our living room furniture. We had to remove the feet on the couch to get it through the door. We left a path to the upstairs and downstairs areas, to the sink and fridge. We gotta eat, sleep and get out the door afterall!

Below you see our office, it contains the television and other "smaller", but still incredibly heavy items. It's a bit of a cat playground now. There is a small path to my closet and Cynical's upright dresser. We gotta wear clean clothes afterall.

The very last photo is our den area. We ended up with far more room in there and I wish I had planned a little better and that could have been our television area over the next few days. However, we had lots to stack in there. I many do some maneuvering to get it a little more accessible. I love it when a good plan comes together.

I want to be a carpenter when I grow up

Forgive me for my frustration. Forgive me for my attitude. Forgive me if I break down and cry for ten minutes out of sheer and utter angst.

We are useless, absolutely useless when it comes to home improvement. It's a truth we cannot escape and trying to get this house ready for sale is only reinforcing the fact. Tomorrow two very qualified floor refinishers are coming to our house to make our living room all shiney and new. It's a big expense, but one we can't avoid.

I was very, very excited about this prospect until I heard back from the carpenter concerning his estimate for the installation of quarter round, a threshold and some hearth work we needed to complete the room. I completely respect the cost of such labor and expertise as all of the men in my family make their living this way. However, it just keeps adding up and we just can't keep pouring money into these projects that in reality we should be able to tackle ourselves.

And then there's the assistance of our fathers. Cynical's dad is so kind and willing to help, but we hate to continually call on him for some of this stuff. My father is resistent and honestly much too overwhelmed with his own projects.

What frustrates me to the point of wanting to take the hammer to all of our windows is that whenever we get this one room done, we have a whole host of other "small" projects ahead of us including finishing out our bathroom, laying some tile and painting. The painting we can tackle, but seems unecessary in light of all of the other that is left to be done.

I know these issues plague most homeowners, but most homeowners have more than a basket of girlie tools and a drill. Most know where to start and what they need to get the job done. Past slapping some paint on, we are lost and confused.

Ok, I am through crying now. I gotta dry my tears and start calling for some estimates, so I can cry some more.

House dresses and clean floors

I need a house dress. Some of you may call them "dusters", but around these parts, we call them house dresses. And I need one.

In case you don't know what I am talking about and are wondering if I, like June Cleaver, don a sporty little dress with a swinging skirt, tight wide belt and pressed collar, let me dispel the myth and explain.

My grandmother, my mother's mother, cleaned house continually. I suspect that this is a gene that skips a generation and hit me full force.

In order to protect her yard clothes, her Sunday best, or her out and about outfits, she wore a house dress while doing chores. It wasn't formfitting, so she had plenty of freedom to move. It snapped up the front so it could easily be removed and hung on the back of the bathroom door should she need to go out in a moment's notice. It was made of cotton as to allow her to remain calm, cool and collected as she moved about dusting, straightening and vacuuming. They were also bright and cheerful. I am convinced that had to lighten her mood as she swept behind the couch and dusted the tops of the doorways. (Yes, this woman was serious about her housecleaning.)

Since I don't have a house dress, I tend to wear horribly misshapen gray capris and a Dave Matthews Band shirt. My grandmother would be appalled.

Last night when I got home, I had a multitude of chores before me. The largest task at hand was sweeping and mopping. As we only have one carpeted room in our house, this is no small undertaking. So, I changed into my cleaning attire and went to work. I swept. I lugged that bucket all over the house. I dumped water. I refilled. I rinsed and I scrubbed.

By the time I took my last swipe with the mop, I was hot, exasperated and ready for a very tall drink of whatever I could nab out of the fridge without leaving footprints on my nice clean floor.

I sat down and waited for my floors to dry before phase II of my chores began: putting everything back where it went prior to the mopping.

As I sat there with my peach tea in hand, I kept thinking that this whole thing would have been made much easier had I been wearing a house dress. I would certainly have been much cooler. I would have been much more shall we say "stylish" and I am also convinced that my floors would have shown their full potential had I been wearing one.

I am going to Target at lunch to spend another gift card, but alas, I suspect they no longer sell house dresses. Too bad, I have to price yard sale stuff tonight, clean my jewelry and polish some shoes. Wouldn't I be grand in a floral one piece standing over the sink rinsing my earrings?