Well, my favorite day of the week, Sunday, got hijacked yesterday for an impromptu trip to the big town to get new tires for Husband’s pickup. And a funny thing happened on the way. He got a flat tire.
So the quick trip turned into a long trip and while we were at it we thought we might as well load up on supplies to finish up the master bedroom, and, most importantly the closest.
I’m going to have an entire shelf for my shoes people.
An entire shelf.
It only took a good hour or so of discussion, planning and negotiation in the closet organizing section of Menards to come up with that plan, but it’s happening.
My life will never be the same.
And so that’s what I was doing yesterday. I was closet planning and waiting for tires and checking off the last of our supply list and sitting next to Husband as we drove home into the sunset and into the evening to unload doors and shelves and trim boards and laundry detergent and a little gift for Little Man and tools and screws and the rest of the things we need into the house in the middle of the pitch black night.
And that’s why you didn’t get my Sunday post. I know you were worried. I even got a worried email, so thanks for that.
But it was a good weekend all in all, one that kicked off with a birthday party for Pops and rolled on into Saturday where I played music for a beer festival in a neighboring college town and ended with my dream of an organized closet one step closer to realized.
And now it’s Monday and the rain is pouring down again, filling up the stock dams, sending the river out past its banks and women running from their cars to the nearest building with newspapers and magazines and jackets and briefcases covering their hairdos.
In the last month we’ve had all the rain we can handle. The grass is green and the chokecherry blossoms are in full bloom.
Everything is alive and another day more beautiful.
Pops turned fiftysomethingorother last Friday and this week’s column celebrates him and how fitting it is that he was born in during the best of the seasons.
Coming Home: Chokecherry blooms signal special time
by Jessie Veeder
Enjoy your week. Enjoy the rain, the smell of the chokecherry blossoms, and God willing, let’s enjoy some sun too.
If you need me, I’ll be picking wildflowers and organizing my boot collection…