Taking the House by Storm

The trials and tribulations of the average gal trying to navigate through life, love and the pursuit of domestic bliss.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Small Victories

It’s been awhile. You know, I just never really feel like I get that much accomplished. Even though it’s generally because I have unrealistic expectations of myself. Even if I get a lot done, it usually barely just scratches the surface of my to-do list. I’m trying not to be so hard on myself.

That’s why I’m feeling pretty good right now. Yesterday, the Rickster and I spent some time in the basement. I know I mentioned that some friends from work are coming over this Saturday to help me transform my office into the nursery. Everything is so convoluted around here that in order for that to happen, the basement really needs to be clean first.

Sounds crazy, I know, but it’s true. Rick concentrated on his office. He did a great job. It looks as nice as it can in there since the previous owner was what we lovingly refer to as the Half-Assed Handyman. So this one ‘finished’ room in our basement looks like a dump. But now it’s a nice, neat dump.

Which is important since I’ll be moving my books down there and we needed a spot for our new bookcase to go. I’ll be putting my filing cabinet down there, too. And in a weak moment, Rick mentioned that I could possibly set my drums up in there. Much to his chagrin, that is a statement I won’t soon forget.

Rick was previously very opposed to me putting anything down there; he’s afraid I’ll turn his office into what mine is – an oversized storage closet you can’t even really walk into. Valid concern, but not my plan.

Anyway, while he did that, I worked on the rest of the basement. My main project was to erect the new plastic shelving unit I bought for our pantry items that were strewn all around the room. There is another shelf down there, one of those nice metal units, which looks great but isn’t very practical for canned goods, etc. Stuff is unstable and falls off. Including new bottles of Smucker’s Boysenberry Syrup.

But I digress. Once I got that project done, I organized our painting materials and put stuff where it belonged in the coal room, which I also straightened. That’s where I keep holiday decorations, athletic equipment and some other stuff.

Funny side story. A couple of months ago, the coal room smelled like Squishy. Squishy was the dead squirrel stuck somewhere in the attic of my friend Merrick’s old apartment in Atlanta. She couldn’t find him, but we sure could smell him. At least for a while.

Same thing in the coal room. I did a cursory scan for the offending smell back when it started, but couldn’t find anything. Eventually, it stopped smelling and I forgot about it. Until yesterday. I picked up this hammock chair I have and was contemplating whether to try and hang it up somewhere or just get rid of it. As I picked it up, I noticed a funny smell. That would have been enough for a normal person, but not me.

I had to put it to my face to get a closer smell. What can I say, I have this strange obsession with odors. And the hammock definitely smelled foul. As I pulled it away from my face, I noticed something furry in it. And dead. Squishy Jr. I dropped the hammock and screamed, belatedly, because that seemed like the thing to do.

Rick didn’t exactly come running, and he didn’t come exactly prepared to dispose of said creature. After much prodding, he did finally take a closer look and determined it was a baby mole. Makes sense since we found a regular sized mole burrowing into our basement about the same time the smell began. That lucky guy was re-released into the wild. This little guy, not so lucky.

Long story long, decided to shitcan the hammock chair.

Coupled with the rest of the organizing and downsizing we did, our basement is looking pretty fine. I’d love to show you a picture, but I still can’t find our digital camera. And it’s only 80% done. When it’s finally finito, I’ll treat you to some before and after shots.

In the meantime, I’m going to keep celebrating the small – and sometimes not-so-small – victories. Cleaning the basement was a major accomplishment. I’m proud of us.


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