Laundry Room Progress

Not done yet, but better, no? We're loving the pale turquoise that we chose for the worktop and pegboards. And having everything organized in bins instead of shoved in - priceless!

before the before and after

You know I love a good before-and-after series. We are in the midst of a laundry room overhaul, and I am posting this as a promise that there will be after-shot-worthy photos soon. So here it is, the ugly before. Stay tuned and hold me to my word.

The blessing of laziness

There are blessings in laziness. If I had ever followed through with the landscaping plans that occupied my daydreams when we first moved in, we would have lost a fortune during this year's drought. If I had ever gotten around to taming the wildness of our little patch of earth, the deer wouldn't have been here to greet me this morning, nuzzling and grooming each other's long necks as they grazed on the newly sprung grass.

*I wish these photos were better, but this is the best my little camera can do through two panes of glass and a screen in the early morning light with well-camouflaged creatures. I had to share anyway.

Hope on a Sad Christmas Day

Happiness by Jane Kenyon

There's just no accounting for happiness,

or the way it turns up like a prodigal

who comes back to the dust at your feet

having squandered a fortune far away.

And how can you not forgive?

You make a feast in honor of what

was lost, and take from its place the finest

garment, which you saved for an occasion

you could not imagine, and you weep night and day

to know that you were not abandoned,

that happiness saved its most extreme form

for you alone.

No, happiness is the uncle you never

knew about, who flies a single-engine plane

onto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikes

into town, and inquires at every door

until he finds you asleep midafternoon.

as you so often are during the unmerciful

hours of your despair.

It comes to the monk in his cell.

It comes to the woman sweeping the street

with a birch broom, to the child

whose mother has passed out from drink.

It comes to the lover, to the dog chewing

a sock, to the pusher, to the basket maker,

and to the clerk stacking cans of carrots

in the night.

It even comes to the boulder

in the perpetual shade of pine barrens,

to rain falling on the open sea,

to the wineglass, weary of holding wine.

the front porch . . .

is finally finished!

let's take a trip back down memory lane. remember what it looked like when we bought it, with no steps (not to mention structural issues)?

along came duane to build us the porch of our dreams. yay, duane!

it was a heck of a job and took three whole weekends, but look how great it turned out!

in addition to being much more accessible, it's also sooooo much safer than the old porch. not just because children can't fall off the edge anymore, but because the supports underneath actually reach the ground (yep, it was bad).

then he left us to stain it and add a gutter to protect it, which we finally did (but didn't photograph). afterwards we decided to fill in the open spaces, but there wasn't enough room for wooden boards under the lip of each step, so we decided to go with . . . .

aluminum flashing!

here's kelly stapling it on.

after several weekends of staining, painting, and scoring, wrangling, and stapling metal, it's done!

finally, the fruit

oh, how i hope the raccoons don't steal our pomegranates this year.

Why I Wake Early by Mary Oliver

Hello, Sun in my face.

Hello, you who made the morning

and spread it over the fields and

into the faces of tulips

and the nodding morning glories

and into the windows of, even, the

miserable and the crotchety-

best preacher that ever was,

dear star, that just happens

to be where you are in the universe

to keep us from ever darkness,

to ease us with warm touching,

to hold us in the great hands of light-

good morning, good morning, good morning.

Watch, now, how I start the day

in happiness, in kindness.