Skip to main content


It is the second day of the year. I have not exercised. I have not made a list of resolutions. But I have moved most of the furniture in my house. This then, is my new beginning. Dusting. Vacuuming. Putting away. Shoving and repositioning.

There's really only so many ways a room can be rearranged. And while I've only been in this house for a year and a half now, I've been through quite a few of them. It takes a while to make things right. I suppose I'm still settling in. Making this our home.

I've never studied Feng Sui, and I'm not sure that principles relating furniture to the four corners would make my mind quiet down. But I do know that most of my large pieces of furniture are on furniture movers permanently. Because I'm still not certain they've found their spot.

Moving the furniture is nice, because it isn't permanent. When you paint, you pick a color, and you take the hours of effort to plaster it all over the walls. If you don't like it, you've lost work and money. And it takes all that over again to make it right. When I move a bed to the opposite side of the room, I end up physically tired. But if I want to move it again tomorrow, I'm free to do so. I do well with change that can't close me in and tie me down tight. Change without consequences.

I have ruined furniture and walls, of course. Bumped into things and irreparably changed them. Our crib has a gash down one side. Our couch has some wood on the back that's come slightly unhinged. There are colors on the walls that shouldn't be there.

I'm willing to pay this price. All to come to the end of the day and feel like I have done something real and tangible that might make life flow a little better. Feel a little more cozy. Be a little more right. All to start a new year on some sort of new foot.


Popular posts from this blog

Le Guin Writing Exercises #5 - Chastity with Adverbs and Adjectives

August has been my month of painting. We are changing our kitchen, and my job has been to make our oak cabinets into grey cabinets. Every afternoon, in the time I normally use for writing, I paint. the color is Dorian Gray ... so at least I'm keeping the literary mode. I told myself I would paint for all of August, and then, no matter how far I'd gotten, I'd be done. Let me just say, painting is not nearly as fulfilling as writing. Perhaps it helped the Karate Kid out, but I am ready to be done! I'm glad I bought a paint sprayer, or I would have had to give up on the project entirely! Today, I administered my last coat of paint to drawers and cabinets. Alas, my kitchen is not done being painted (trim and cabinet backs elude me) but I cannot start another project that will be finished in one day, so I am done. All the other fixes will have to be finished in leftover moments, not in my precious afternoon hours. Which means today I had time to wri

Le Guin Writing Exercises #3 - Sentence Length

*I have been reading Ursula Le Guin's book Steering the Craft and completing the exercises here to give myself some accountability. Ursula Le Guin's Third Exercise - Sentence Length Practice In this exercise, the writer is asked to write one paragraph with many small sentences (no longer than seven words, no sentence fragments), and one paragraph made up entirely of one sentence. Different versions of the exercise are offered including: 1. Using the same topic for both pieces. 2. Using different topics for each piece. 3. Using topics meant to be fast paced for both short and long sentences and seeing what changes. 4. Using topics meant to be slow paced for both short and long sentences and seeing what changes. I plan on using the same topic. The topic I will use is from @anndeecandy's Instagram account giving memoir prompts. I will turn my memoir prompt into a fiction prompt and use it for this exercise. This particular prompt asks the writer to address the ide

Strawberries and Violets

Last year, almost at the end of summer, I finally bought a dead-looking bunch of strawberry plants. My daughter had been begging for us to plant strawberries, and it had taken me that long to make the purchase. Truthfully, it only happened because a leftover slab of strawberries pretty much walked its way into my cart while I went to buy something else. Still, promise kept, strawberries bought. We planted the strawberries and, since we live in Idaho, it was still cool enough for them to grow. We got about three strawberries and all took turns taking a bite. Then we waited excitedly for the next year, when there would be more strawberries. When spring came we were happy to note that the strawberries had spread out and begun growing even more plants. Little white flowers dotted the greenery, all of them promising a bountiful harvest. We had neighbors with awesome strawberry patches, and felt we were well on our way to acquiring our own. And then, something happened. If that s