a bit of something

I had a few--three, to be exact-- thoughts floating around my brain today while I pulled up carpet tackstrip and the billions of staples that were holding down the carpet pad in the room formerly know as the "TV room", soon to be known as the "Office". Yes, I know, we haven't finished the basement remodel project yet, but working on the basement remodel project gave me plenty of time to realize that we needed to shuffle around some furniture, which gave me (and, of course, Jack) the idea that we could easily move around the furniture in our bedroom, which would give us space for a new office and a new guest room now that Jr and the drummer don't want to leave the basement. My biggest concern (about the project that is, because, of course, my biggest concerns are about world peace, healthy babies, and all other serious stuff), was that we'd given the former guest room bed to the drummer, so we'd have to purchase another bed, mattress, blah, blah, etc., but then, in what I consider a true streak of genius, I realized that the guests we would be inviting into our guest room would all be delighted to sleep in our boys' bunkbeds (made by Jack many years ago, still solid as a rock), because, of course, the guests will be the girlies.

So. While using many manly handtools today, I had three thoughts.

First, I've thought for a long time that Brian Williams from NBC News has got to have the best face for a caricature ever. Seriously. Don't you think?

Second. I've been meaning to explain the reason why I finally caved and got a mybook page. Ever since my kids got their spacebook pages, their blogs have suffered. Okay. Wait. Not everbody's blog has suffered. Some people continue to update their blogs and share their pictures of the adorable girlies on their blogs. But I keep hearing that everybody puts pictures on their pagebook spaces and if I want to see the pics and steal them for my blog, I need to get a spaceface page. So I did. Can I tell you though, it is overwhelmingly mindnumbing to go to my page. So many conversations going on, so many people to befriend. People (any by people I mean me) could spend all of their time just catching up and responding. And I keep getting this nagging feeling that everybody is reading everybody else's business or posting about everybody else's business, like when somebody is sick or is going to the hospital to have a baby. Is this simply an efficient method of communication that I need to get on board with or else risk sounding really old and out of touch? Am I becoming Carol Makita?

Finally. Shortly after Jack and I moved to the gardens, I attended a Christmas party with the Relief Society neighbors. It was a progressive dinner, perhaps you've heard of them? It started with appetizers at the home of a nice woman, then moved to other women's homes for salad, then on to other women's homes for the entree, and then ended with dessert at the church.

As we all gathered at the first home for the appetizers, I quickly realized I knew very few women. They were all aware of me though, they knew where I lived, that we were remodeling the place ourselves (gasp!). They were friendly enough, but it didn't take long for the friends to group together and I wasn't part of any of the groups. Before long, the woman who owned the first home took us all on a tour of her home, explaining that she had finally been able to buy the furniture she wanted. All were amazed and delighted by her stunning decor. Early in the evening, the woman who we bought our home from arrived at the party. True, she had moved several miles away, but she had lived in the home for over 15 years and was a beloved neighbor who had endured numerous painful trials through the years and had been supported by many of these women. Of course, they warmly welcomed her back that evening.

We finished the first course and piled into the cars we'd arrived in to head to our assigned salad home. I'd come by myself, so I got into my car and drove straight to my garage, where I sat in my car, sobbing, as I thought about my friends in my old neighborhood, my broken-down house, all of the work Jack and I had to do to the place, how unfriendly and snobbish the women in my new neighborhood obviously were, and how there was no way I was going to spend the evening looking at somebody else's beautiful new furniture and newly remodeled home when I was living in a broken house.

Poor me.

Today, Sugar and Colleen and I went to IHOP for breakfast and to catch up. They came in to see the basement remodel and I showed them the proposed office space and the proposed guest room. They left after oohing and aahing for a bit and petting JoJo while she stood with her front paws on their shoulders. And I got this nagging feeling.

It occurs to me that my recent posts about the projects we've been working on and my tour of the place today are eerily familiar to that progressive dinner evening, but without the appetizers.

Is there any excuse for my behavior? Did I intend to boast about the projects or the furniture or the other stuff?

I don't know about the progressive dinner ladies, but I was so excited to finally, after seven years here, have the basement so close to done. I am so excited to have a place to keep our books and computers and office stuff and a place for the girls to sleep when they eventually start to spend the night at Gramma's.

And honestly, there is no way we could have paid somebody to do the various projects we've done, or bought the various things we've purchased, except that we have stumbled onto some really great deals. Seriously great deals. Well, that and we don't have a problem with yard sale crap. And there's the part about how Jack and I completed our first project before we were even married. We painted the little rental house we were going to live in during the week before the wedding because there was no way we were living in a place that was painted sky blue. In fact, the kitchen in that house was my first yellow kitchen. (Thanks, Jack!)

So, yes, we do projects around here, we've always done projects, and we will always do projects because Jack is lucky to be married to a woman who loves to buy tools of all kinds for him and because I am lucky to be married to a man who can make or fix anything if I just give him the time to think it through so we don't have to redo it part way through.

I'm hoping none of you, dear readers, have finished reading a post of mine and sat in your car, sobbing, because it feels like I've been boasting. Because as much as I like the way our home has evolved, the truth is, it's just a place. We've been lucky and blessed to be able to fix it up so that our family can all be together in one place and enjoy some good times. And that is the real joy in the remodeling. The time we spend together, planning, working, laughing, sometimes sulking, and then, when it is done, playing, talking, and being together.