The hotel, except for some really minor (“I have no idea where that will be going”) is ready to move into. It looks as if we have a serious buyer, would that the market only be $300K higher, But we’ve gotten our wear out of the pink house–it’s been a great place to grow tomatoes, chickens and vegetables, as well as give us real projects to work on with our growing family. But it’s time to let someone else who needs chickens and a pool house and room for touch football and badminton to take over.
AND, as our CPA explained to us, we got the actual value out of it all these last 14 years….not just one last little year. He made a graph and he is right, This has been just a cash cow and the only problem with is, as with all homes if that it would be nice to have that and $300K in your poket on your closing day.
So starting tomorrow, we are going to start moving things out–either upstairs or into the gazebo for a yard sale in September. My watchword for this home is NO CLUTTER. I want to have space all around me.
For example, my bedroom now is pretty big. It has a big tall queen sized bed and a reading chair, two night stands with skinny lamps, an armoire, a walk-in closet, a dressing room, bathroom and vanity. My new bedroom is about three times this size. So our current bed will go into the guest room, The armoire will go into the back bedroom. I’ll trade my round side tables in for deeply carved mahagony dressers, which fit the scale of the huge wide and tall bed.
There is room, too for a sitting area (I only have 30 different chairs to choose from and NONE OF THEM WILL BE LEATHER. I have a huge mahogany marble topped ladies dresser with drawers custom made for things we don’t even wear anymore. I have a lovely platter, wreathed with roses where I’ll keep my perfumes. There’s room for my night things, gloves, veils, millinery decorations for my many hats…there is room, room, room in there.
My sewing room has plenty of space for my fitting mannequin (I’ve only wanted one forever but the one I wanted was a size 10. Suffice to say, this one will help me make my clothes fit me.
My closet (this is the first thing we’ll move because it is easy, sort of light and simple to organzize has space for my 187 pairs of schoes and a special dresser for my jewelry. It has special shelves for decorative Christmas boxes to stack up and be at hand the day after Thanksgiving. (Beautifully papered boxes for my hats, with coordinated squared boxes for other things.
I even have an entire closed in area for the million boxes of pre digital photos going from I guess 1999 to 1845. This will go into family scrapbooks with the stories written by me, (a huge labor of love).
I will, next week, wash and rehang the lace curtains form this house and starch and hang them in the new place. I’m pretty sure I have MORE than enough pairs to go on each window. Three sets on the kitchen window since there is not one thing to see except the sky over the next door building there. But there is a lot of light in this kitchen and indeed, in the entire hotel.
I also get to got get my plutonium/uranium test next week. I think they give me whatever it is in a lead box, shut me up in a lead room and then buzz me when it is safe for them. I expect I’ll be able to hold the tv cord for several weeks and watch tv in Russian. We are planning a midnight pool party and I’ll be the lights. Heaven, I grew up BEFORE seat belts were thought a good idea for children. I broke open my share of mercury thermometers and played with the shiny, slightly greasy blobs of mercury, lived in a house sided with asbestos and for all I know, sucked on rattles decorated with lead paint.
After that, I get a not from DR. OW, saying he thinks I can get my shoulder fixed (it’s only been 10 months) and a note from my Primary oh so gently mentioning that with all of this projectile vomiting, my dilaudid and zophran might be a better idea for the surgery. I have to remember to tell my nurse to make sure I am still out when she pulls out my breathing tube or I will try to knock her out. (only every time they pull that tube out have I tried to start a melee is I am waking up in the least. It doesn;t hurt me, it just scares me a little.)
Oh, sometimes,I just think I know a little too much about of the workings of my innards.
Next week, I’m putting my sewing room together. Mike had this huge confereance table we though would be perfect for our dining room. It was a foot too long to fit the cherry hutch in also. And it was such a nice sturdy, beautifully wrought piece of furniture, too.
Now it IS my sewing nook. Room for a visitor and room for two scrap bookers, as well.
So my plans are:
Move all my closet into the new house (Mike’ stuff on top rods; mine on bottom rods)…shoes, too. I’ll keep my jewelry here until we really do the move.
I wonder if I can take the small chandelier and put it in my closet?
I know I’ll be able to use the heavy crocheted cotton curtains as dust ruffles in both guest rooms.
And Ben is in total charge of the library, videos, CDS, music and what all. He is so precise about putting like with like (we have all of the first editions of Tarzan books, as well as some really cook carvings of rhinos.and some “Out of Africa” type photos we found in antique stores. They will go all together. All of Mike’s Louis Lamore collection are cinched uped with fancy western belts and turquoise buckles and the fancy brass horses that were so popular in the 50’s.
Lisi? She will go get every little spice and herb we might every need and get them put away. The buttery will be well stocked. My cupboards are made to fit cookie sheets and cookie coolers; round pie plates;middle sized casseroles; big casseroles, crock pots for parties, the two big coffee makers for a party…I even have a huge closet only for my table linens. The beds are on very high platforms with drawers where the are fresh blankets, towels and linens. We even have extra comfy nightclothes, just in case this is a spur of the moment visit.
I have most of the shades and the simple drapes to sew and lines…I’m getting help only for the library and the dining rooms, since I want them to be the big showplace rooms that allow messey games of scrabble and fetch with the dogs. The library actually needs new furniture for eight and then tow extra sitting areas for four. (Yes, it is huge.)
The player piano goes into the library and the big Eastlake organ goes into the lobby.
I want to be able to get the most of it all moved and sherpa’d up the stairs so it is organized and we won’t bee living out of one emergency box for a month. We have a roofing truck with a scissor lift that will take everything from our high porch, across town and the lift it all up to the back door for things to be rolled into the house—stort of like the way they did it on the Titanic, I guess.
We still need a nicer front door and a camera system Lisi doesn;t think me running out onto the veranda, hollering “Who is it?” and then throwing down the keys is genteel enough.
This is exactly the kind of house I’ve been wanting for my entire life. No neighbors. Parades, Two blocks form the library/park/Superior Dairy.Pretty much every thing I need is within four blocks of my front door. And for a girl who live most of her life 20 miles from town, this is like being in on the big middle of everything.
My front veranda is going to be my junk yard for a little bit until I can get enough pots for a little garden. In the corner where I worry most about some gang banger jumping onto the veranda (sill idea, I don;t think one could do it, but yet….) I am planting Yellow Mermaid climbing flowers. They have three inch hooked thorns and the prettiest scent. Good as razor wire.
I am feeling a bit better today, although I’m pretty sure I’ll be in the ER for fluids this weekend. It’s a combination of puking everything up, my chronic headaches and my atmospheric blood pressure that keeps my off balance. I can say that in veins ar perfect and plaque free, I can now eat Crisco fried Twinkies to my hearts contents with no fear of plugging up my circulatory system.
Really, in my family we all get cancer around my age, It doesn’t kill us. We live until our late 80’s and 90’s and manage to find books to read, things to embroider, baby things to knit. dogs to love and people to remember all of our lives.