Tuesday, July 19, 2016
In the nine years that I have lived in this small (not Tiny) house, I have moved the furniture in the blue study room at least 20 times. Not kidding. I have had at least six different desks. I have changed other furniture in there, too--more than I care to count. Only the bookcases and the antique music bureau remained constant.
It's actually an indicator of my dissatisfaction when I feel the need to keep moving and changing. Other rooms in the house are not like that. Once large pieces are in place, the arrangement is essentially set in stone. I might make replace throw pillows or something like that but stuff generally stays where I have decided to put it. The fact that I have been moving bookcases is fairly major. The fact that I have traded out two rooms is positively unreal.
Having decided that I had no choice but to move the huge work table out of the house, I got busy this morning. Moved a ton of stuff; got everything prepared. And discovered disastrously at the ultimate moment that I could not remove the table by myself unless I removed the bed first. This is what happens with small spaces. Worse still, it was fixing to rain, and I had already put the top of the table outside where it was waiting by the back door.
No point in fussing and getting cross. Instead I did what I always do when I'm at a crossroads: I made a large mug of tea and sat down in the middle of the mess to pray and to think. That's when I saw it: the clue to resolving the problem.
Eureka! A missing piece of baseboard. I know just what to do next. Maybe this change will really work. This is the sort of chop-logic that only works for me.
I'm still praying but I think I've got it this time.
Let's see what happens.
By the way, I brought the work table top back into the house.
Life is good.