We're in the midst of a blizzard. Before it's over we're looking at between 12 and 18 inches of snow. Frankly, I couldn't be happier, I've got no place to go.
If you've been wondering where I've been I'm getting a little panicky about getting everything I need to complete done before the baby arrives (6 weeks away!!). "Nesting" has set in full force. The hubs is still working like a mad man to get the nursery renovated in time. We have all of the furniture for the room stacked up in the dining room for now. The big issue with the room is all the detailed moldings and trim. Remember our house is 120 years old so the wood trim has millions of layers of paint on them and in the tradition of every nearly every old NYC apartment I ever lived in has 5 or 6 cables, extension cords and phone lines affixed to them and painted over. The acrylic paint is easy to remove but once he hits the layers of old Victorian oil based paints? Nightmarish doesn't even begin to describe it. When he finishes the stripping we're going to repair any cracks or peeling plaster on the walls and ceiling. Knock out the old and severely damaged plaster walls in the walk in closet and put up sheet rock (I would never do this in the room but since it's just the closet I've o.k.'d the use of the sheet rock). Skim coat plaster over the sheet rock and reassemble closet shelves, rails etc. Then it's on to painting. Did I mention she's coming in 6 weeks? Yikes!
So, while he's busting his knuckles in the salt mines I've got stacks of paperwork spread out all over the guest bed that I'm sorting through. I used to be the most organized person in the world but since we moved into the house my old systems didn't seem to be working for me. Or more likely, I hadn't been working at them (let's not get into semantics though...). I've got 2+ years of important documents that need to be filtered through and filed away properly. Don't even get me started on the amount of shredding I've done in the last week. I figure it's now or never. I'm not even going to touch the subject of cleanliness. Let's just say while we're in no danger of being condemned I'm embarrassed by the level of grime that is now covering my home. I just can't do it myself anymore. I can't bend over or lift anything. The other day I thought I saw a gray cat walk by only to realize it was a giant fur ball tumbleweeding it's way across the floor. I have called the cavalry and help is on it's way. My mom, the British Martha Stewart, is coming at the end of the month to help me get the place sanitized. Sanitized is the most appropriate word for it too. I kid you not, she will literally be on top of a ladder washing the crevasses of the crown moldings and the walls. No surface or textile will be spared. She's that exacting. You can imaging having grown up in that environment only adds to my current level of embarrassment about the state of things. She's been forewarned.
So, please bear with me while I take a slight step back from the blogging. I'll be back just as soon as I get my head above water again.
(source: Bill Brown)