Some Panic-Induced Cleaning

We are in the process of buying our house. Need I say more? Let me skip to the appraisal portion of this adventure. . .

When the call came that the appraiser needed to come by and check some things out, I panicked and insisted that the office get cleaned up. It took a whole day. To our amazement, we discovered that a floor does still exist in that room.

I don't have any "before" pictures (wouldn't want the evidence circulating about), but take this mess and apply it to the whole room. Twice.


But I do have "after" pictures. I'm very proud of our new room. It's not perfect, but at least the land mines of paper and toys and sharp things and lost things and forgotten things are gone. Look, a futon! (At the bottom right of the picture.)


And I can now walk into the closet (which, by the way, is twice as big as my bedroom closet - so unfair). I actually laid down in it, just to spend a blissful moment in the space.


And the best part of the whole process. . . .No creepy critters (like roaches, or mice, or goblins) lying in wait. Phew!

And there's more. We took a huge step in completing our bedroom's transformation and got things up on the walls. We still need to paint the doors and vent cover, find some cool new bedding, and get a console table to put our sound system on for our future (distant) flat-panel TV (for which we have devoted a whole wall). And, I am working up the courage to suggest to Dave a ceiling re-paint. But we are getting really close to finally (FINALLY!) completing this room.

Candace also came by and, after making me walk 5 miles (more on that later), dusted and vacuumed. And she cleaned our kitchen cabinet doors and drawers (which have some kind of sticky paint on them and don't have any handles or knobs and are thus, grime magnets). I couldn't be more grateful or lucky. I have the best, bester, bestest sister!

And so, back to the appraiser. Yeah, I'm new at this and I didn't know what to expect and, it turns out, the panicking was unnecessary. Well, actually, not unnecessary - look what it accomplished. But all he did was get the square footage of the inside and outside of the house, ask about gas and/or electric, count bedrooms/bathroom, note shingle tiles and carport, take some pictures (of, among other things, a clean office, aka 3rd bedroom) and threaten to steal Dave's cool riding mower.

Little does he know. . .

Something's Different . . .

I wonder. . .










What could it be. . .?









(Hint: It's not the tattoo.)


Thank you Candace!!!!


p.s. I love Stacie!

Who Nose?

I was driving home from work today and I passed a kid, probably no older than a kindergartner, walking home from school. I had noticed him from down the street because he was flinging his arm around, mouthing words to himself. As I passed him, our eyes met. Without losing that eye contact he thrust his finger up his nose and then flung a booger at me. Good thing I hadn't washed my car! My first reaction was indignation - how dare he?! - and then I started laughing. Such a bad attitude for a 5-year-old! He's a fun one, that one. His teacher must loooooove him.

I was thinking maybe he needs a lesson in being more discreet. If you would like to learn some of the finer techniques of nose picking, go here. Cheers!