in which the lady returns

2014 is the Year of the Unfuck.

Project #1: Clear the back bedroom. Tante Rosi is most definitely staying for two weeks in September*, and I’m not putting her in my room or the front parlor. Conveniently, we will have acquired a third bedframe by that time, and a new mattress and base for me. (Memory foam! At last!) No word yet on whether my parents plan to take my old mattress, which they say is good enough for them, even after fourteen years — I think theirs is actually newer. But there will be the makings of a guest bed. Well, my aunt deserves a proper bed instead of an inflatable (which may well be in use, depending on who goes to Wildwood). She’s a geriatric nurse. Er. A nurse who cares for geriatrics. An altenpflegerin. She’s also not that much larger than I am. She must ache something fierce at the end of a day! Nothing flimsy for her.

Project #2: Paint the bedrooms. No matter which bedroom I take, both want scrubbing and painting.** The front bedroom gets morning light and I want it to have a morning mood, with a nice gold-green that’ll look great with orange-warm lamplight. The back bedroom should be cooler, more meditative, so slate blue-grey. I don’t want to muck with the trim; it will all stay white, thank you.

Project #3: Deep-clean the bedroom carpets. Likely while we’re painting, or just after. Coming up on twenty years in this house and we haven’t done it yet — whyyyyy?

Project #4: Sensible bedroom organisation. The layout of my room is just hideous right now.*** It’s a hodgepodge of furniture we’ve picked up over the years. If I stay in the front room, and a lick of paint would make that a nicer prospect, I’d like my bed against the short wall, with my feet facing eastish. (Sunrise.) Pop the hamper between the footboard and the other wall; old white kiddie wardrobe goes, to be replaced by a storage unit I haven’t bastardised into usefulness. Half-size bookshelf to hold new TV if it’s the right size; otherwise I thrift a good little shelf that will hold TV and accessories (sound bar, DVD player, cable box). Definitely hoping to thrift a proper bedside table with a drawer; the barstool I’ve been using doesn’t suit. Likely the desk goes into the spare bedroom, bookshelf moves over a wall, and… shall I have a little dressing table if I can find one? Which puts the pretty divider downstairs between the parlor and my dad’s office area.

Project #4a: Curtains everywhere. New curtains for a new paint job — I’ve had the red ones quite some time — and I’d like something quite heavy to hang over the doorway as, well, a door. The actual door hasn’t shut properly since we moved in. The cats are in and out of here so often that I’d really rather they can get in and out without my having to leave my room exposed. A curtain-door would allow me to leave the door “open” by tying it in the middle or off to one side, and air could still flow through the house. I would need something like two yards of upholstery fabric and a really strong curtain rod. Not sure whether I’d have to farm the sewing out to someone with a heavy-duty machine, though. Doubt handstitching will suffice. I can sew two other curtains out of something lighter on my own machine, provided I get the hang of the bobbin! (Or sell the machine to someone smarter and get a much simpler machine…) I’ve no qualms about plain white linen. Looks good from both sides, screens out prying eyes but allows sun through. Bonus? I actually have sufficient yardage.

It’s a subtle way of saying yes, I’m back, though I’m not sure for what. I was Elsewhere in order to sort out my head. How much audacity did my refuge actually contain? By the end, I felt I was apologising for my own thoughts. Suddenly it wasn’t my place to be myself but a voice to echo big-P Progressives and big-F Feminists. I wasn’t comfortable here anymore. I’d altered my very thought patterns to echo the hive. Who does that?

I’m taking a first tentative step back into your line of sight with something as innocuous as decorating ideas. I may yet tackle spirituality. I hope to review past ideas, dissecting where I stood then and explaining what’s changed.


In before midnight — happy new year!

* She didn’t actually make it until the spring of 2015, but whatever.
** Never happened.
*** And still was. I rearranged it at least twice. Once was fuelled by rage. I moved a whole mattress by myself!
**** Redacted.


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