04-17-2013, 11:16 AM
I finally finished cleaning it out. There were some loose odds and ends still lingering, and I had to tuck the speaker wire back into the wall, which was harder than I thought it was going to be. T says it's still the creepiest room, even when empty.
I also cleared out the remaining boxes in the rafters of the garage. Tossed out more stuff - lots of old mags (ironic considering my vocation), a huge cache of Dupree's Diamond Blues flyers (only relevant to deadheads), a bag-o-wire (only relevant to rastas), stale stuff from my medicine cabinet. I found a lot of hotel-sized products purloined over the years, including a sample of a Japanese product that I though was moisturizing lotion. After applying it to my face this morning, I discovered it was actually some sort of sports cream, a Japanese Ben Gay, Beni Garu or something. That was a serious mistake. My eyes are still fuzzy from that. At least it had some moisturizing properties.
The pom seems to like the empty house. When we moved in, we replace the cream-colored carpet with pergo, so now the house is super echoey. When the pom barks, it sounds huge, like a real dog. He likes that and has taken to barking randomly in the middle of the night, just to admire the reverb. That being said, I haven't been sleeping well. It's been totally jamming my ability to write/work, but then again, writer's block is an old frenemy.
Looking out over the yard, I can see that the roses are on the verge of the most spectacular bloom so far. When we moved in there, it was just manicured grass, complete with a watering timer, akin to a miniature golf course. Over the last 12 years, we've taken all of that out, replaced it with native plants, some two dozen evergreens, fruit, nut and herb trees, and a few ornamentals. There are all sorts of flowers and fengshui rocks. I took out the front yard and made it a stone zen garden. That I will miss as my zen garden was my thotful spot, but the veranda of the beach bungalow trumps all of it.
Our property manager has three promising candidates lined up. We should have a renter in by May Day.
I also cleared out the remaining boxes in the rafters of the garage. Tossed out more stuff - lots of old mags (ironic considering my vocation), a huge cache of Dupree's Diamond Blues flyers (only relevant to deadheads), a bag-o-wire (only relevant to rastas), stale stuff from my medicine cabinet. I found a lot of hotel-sized products purloined over the years, including a sample of a Japanese product that I though was moisturizing lotion. After applying it to my face this morning, I discovered it was actually some sort of sports cream, a Japanese Ben Gay, Beni Garu or something. That was a serious mistake. My eyes are still fuzzy from that. At least it had some moisturizing properties.
The pom seems to like the empty house. When we moved in, we replace the cream-colored carpet with pergo, so now the house is super echoey. When the pom barks, it sounds huge, like a real dog. He likes that and has taken to barking randomly in the middle of the night, just to admire the reverb. That being said, I haven't been sleeping well. It's been totally jamming my ability to write/work, but then again, writer's block is an old frenemy.
Looking out over the yard, I can see that the roses are on the verge of the most spectacular bloom so far. When we moved in there, it was just manicured grass, complete with a watering timer, akin to a miniature golf course. Over the last 12 years, we've taken all of that out, replaced it with native plants, some two dozen evergreens, fruit, nut and herb trees, and a few ornamentals. There are all sorts of flowers and fengshui rocks. I took out the front yard and made it a stone zen garden. That I will miss as my zen garden was my thotful spot, but the veranda of the beach bungalow trumps all of it.
Our property manager has three promising candidates lined up. We should have a renter in by May Day.
Shadow boxing the apocalypse