I've had a few people describe my sewn sketches as "whimsical." I take that as the best compliment because, I realized, upon hearing the word, that whimsy is exactly what I want to achieve. Not just through my pieces, but in my home. In my yard. Step by step keeping that word in mind in this torrential mess of transition.
When it rains it pours, so not only is every room now torn up with some sort of overhauling being done (it seems) but my sketches are taking on another feeling as well. More, well, whimsical... I am hoping.
I keep reaching to make my work and my home look like the images I envision in my mind or, rather, feel more like the feelings inside of me. The ones that have essentially defined me. Does that make sense? It takes a lot of letting go.
We got a quote for a bookshelf to be built in that same spot that I've been telling about for the last year. The quote? $1200. After we had a good, hardy laugh over that, we went to Home Depot and bought what we needed for about $100. Brad built this bookshelf and there is one just one more shelf to go in the center, as you can see.
As for the girls rooms. Oh- that's a mess. We are in deep transition waiting for the flooring and starting to paint the other girl's room, Everything truly a train wreck at this stage. But we have one beautiful pink wall to gaze at. I love fresh paint.
And you have to flip back through the last few posts and see the progress of the front garden bed. Wow. When I say I'm gonna do something, I darn well do it. It's a good quality, and can be severely annoying too to those around me. My 7-year-old is totally on to me and understands now, she says, why I was born in the year of the boar (persevering to a fault.) Hey. I make shit happen as best I can. So, excuse my French and watch out.
The kitten is such a nice addition. She was to be named Sunny Dream. But, for reasons you can see, her name is now Mooney Dream. Sigh. Kittens are such nice people, do you know what I mean?