Changing Changes

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.