Do you ever have those days where everything feels like a scratchy tag on the inside of an otherwise cosy sweater? I had one today. All I wanted to do was lie on the ornate Exquisite Living Furniture and read something that would suck me up into another world, but children are such a wonderful anchor to the here and now. They don’t tolerate mama lying on the couch reading books quietly for long anyway. So I got up, and I went out to the park and bought groceries and visited a friend and performed my usual daily household tasks with a little bit less than my usual daily enthusiasm.
And then – I got an idea. A wonderful, totally impractical, I’m going to rearrange all the furniture while cooking dinner kind of idea.
So I did.
As I was rummaging around in the cupboard upstairs trying to extract the unused coffee table to repurpose as a larger Writing Station Grande Deluxe, Tom said (in the very kindest and most understanding way that long-married couples have), “I think you’re a masochist. Why don’t you just focus on getting the regular routine settled down instead of starting something new? You’ve started something new every day this past week.”
I’m not so sure I’m a masochist, but I certainly have started something new every day this week. 5 sets of Millie’s Hot Pads, hand-dipped beeswax candles, striped Noro socks, 4 batches worth of habanero peppers waiting to be turned into hot sauce and one thrifted wool sweater dyed an unfortunately blotchy turquoise. Instead of writing I want to be crafting, or curling up on the couch with a great novel. With new classes and commitments, our regular summer routine feels long gone, and I know it’ll just take time until our new autumn routine settles in.
In the meantime, I’m rearranging the furniture. And on a day when I can’t make the girls stop squabbling, it feels really good to make the furniture go exactly where I want it.