Went home a few weekends ago to take a tour and grab some photos. I must say, I was a little overwhelmed. But if I label these the before pictures, then the after will look so good… right?

frontside

The frontside of the little shack of horrors.

The uh, kitchen. Which will be gutted. Note the attractive subflooring.

The uh, kitchen. Which will be gutted. Note the attractive subflooring.

livingroomfun

This bathrooom needs a sledgehammer and a dumpster. Love the untouched bar of soap mocking me.

This bathrooom needs a sledgehammer and a dumpster. Love the untouched bar of soap mocking me.

The basement horde. We aren't quite sure why its lined with plastic sheeting. I'm sure we'll find out.

The basement horde. We aren’t quite sure why its lined with plastic sheeting. I’m sure we’ll find out.

 

The roof may be the first thing that needs to be fixed!

The roof may be the first thing that needs to be fixed!

The back door. Just a bit dusty

The back door. Just a bit dusty

The bedroom has a unique built in feature. Going to be fun figuring out what to do with it..

The bedroom has a unique built in feature. Going to be fun figuring out what to do with it..

 

 

 


I’m a woman of action, I hate waiting. Have always been known for my lack of patience. This weekend I’m spending in Vermont to tie up a few loose ends (changing accounts, etc) and meeting up with some of my friends here. But I really really want to be shoveling out all of the crap that is located in the shack and taking photos. According to my sister, my brother-in-law is already removing trees and stuff from the property.

He stopped here to grab some things and my dog refused to even get off the couch to greet him. How can he know? How can he no longer thing of him as an owner? Dogs just know, I guess. Humans take longer to acclimate to the situation.




Things I have discovered while packing:

  • New shoe-boxes can be re-purposed to hold delicate glassware acquired from a wedding years ago.
  • I’m leaving the dregs of the kitchen – pots, dishware etc for him to use. I have no interest in it or the memories. I want a fresh start, in a different color.
  • I’m seriously OCD about labeling stuff. I’ve decided that color-coding boxes may be going a smidgen too far in the packing.
  • Purging stuff feels really good. I could never be a hoarder.
  • I have gotten down to only seven boxes of books.

 


After a long and painful battle of a relationship for the past eight years where I kept giving yet another chance to a man who cannot seem to commit to anything, much less a woman, I am moving back to the neighborhood where I grew up. When my parents first moved in, there were horses across the street. Through the years the neighborhood has been cleaned up, recycled, and now is bordering on vaguely industrial. There is a chance to purchase a house next door to my parent’s house, but it is clearly uninhabitable. There is no bathroom, hot water, heat or anything redeeming about the house ┬áIt was built in 1942, and is seriously small, with only one tiny bedroom. My first apartment was bigger than this place.

But, I have always been a HGTV and interior design junkie. When other kids were riding bikes and skinning knees, I was cutting out pages of catalogs to build my dream house decor. I could spend hours in IKEA and browsing furniture stores. Through the years, I have translated my artistic sense to a successful career as a graphic and web designer.

For the next few months, while we wait for the closing of the house, and for the mortgage of my current plastic-crated abode I will be living with my parents. That will be ..interesting? I haven’t lived with my parents in over 10 years.