If I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me

We spent the night in the new house last night. I woke up at the usual time but had oodles of time for myself. I made coffee and got to have a cup. Before it was grab coffee, hope to get a few sips before rushing out the door chanting "I'm late." I took more than 2 seconds to pick out clothes for the day. I flattened my bangs even though with this humidity, it's an exercise in futility. I made notes for myself in my journal. Then I left for work. It took me a whole two and a half minutes to get to work. Holy cow. I can certainly deal with that!

While at work today, I received a very nice compliment. A couple of regulars are moving to North Carolina this week. One of them told me the other said the only thing he would miss about New Orleans was "the really nice lady who always wears black." I said I was glad to know someone would miss me and I would miss seeing them around too.

The exchange tickled me but made me kind of sad at the same time. I have a bunch of Thank You cards given to me by customers. In my eyes, I didn't do anything special. Just being nice. Just being a decent person. In their eyes, it was such a rarity, special enough to take the time to write a message in a card and send it to me. Whatever happened to being nice? Most people here are so rude. The bad part is they aren't aware that their behavior wouldn't be acceptable in the rest of the civilized world. Hold the door for others, help the person in the wheelchair by getting things from they can't reach, greet people with sincerity, make eye contact when they are speaking, and for chrissake - SMILE!! Your face won't break, I promise.

In our new home, the room that is to be my new crafting space was  wallpapered in something you just had to be on acid to have said, "Oh yes! That's what I want on my walls!" The horrific shade of teal painted under the chair rail was pretty ugly too. The room is now white above the chair rail and purple below it. When I get the black and white striped stuff in there it will be my own twisted slice of heaven. I love the tub in the master bath and looking up at the chandelier while soaking is silly fun!

But I have to get going and stop rambling. Load the truck and make another trip to our new house.

Home Sweet Home

It’s been awhile since I posted anything, lots of stuff going on. I have wanted to move back into the city for quite some time for many reasons. The absurd amount I was spending on gas every week, the lost 2 hours a day in commute time, and lack of a social life topped the list. Beloved was less than thrilled at the prospect of moving back into the city. Where we live is quiet and the crime rate is zero. We discussed moving back many times and he said it would have to be perfect. I thought perfect was something we’d never find. Form a mental picture of me sitting at the table, bib around my neck, knife and fork in hand with a large plate of crow.

We found perfect. We found beyond perfect. We both said that if we’d made a list of everything we wanted in our respective ideas of “perfect,” this place has all of them and many more. It’s a cavernous old Victorian with a detached garage. Finding anything here with a garage is quite a feat. Not only is the garage big enough for Beloved’s workshop, it has a home gym in the back end of it. It has a lovely and very private back yard and covered patio. It has a hot tub! The wrought iron fenced front yard is adorable. The kitchen has tons of cabinets, counter space, and a dishwasher. I won’t know how to act! And closets! Closets everywhere! BIG closets! And stained glass! And ornate fireplaces!

Needless to say, we signed the lease are in the process of moving. We are so excited. Since the new place is less than a mile from my work, my commute time and gas bill are negligible now. My friends can actually visit me now. Beloved has a place to grill even if it’s raining. We have sunny garden space. This is going to be so good!