Consequences
One thing, as we know, leads to another -- at least in life. As a writer with a character who has been sitting on a park bench for three weeks, I'm not too sure. But I dare hope.
In life, however, it really does. The map cabinet, for example, has already started a chain of events that would snowball if I were inclined to mix metaphors. As it is, it has encouraged us to get busy and reorganize and sort and toss and toss and toss. Or perhaps develop a second career selling stuff on Ebay. That seems like a reasonable option.
The Prof went to the locker today. He came home with an itemized list of all the things that we can move back and store which I have guaranteed will not leap out at him or bop him on the head. I hope. I'd forgotten the oriental rug. Not that I expect it to leap or bop. But I can't store it in the map cabinet either.
I am thinking maybe the floor of our bedroom would be a good place. The carpet in it now was laid when our oldest son graduated from high school, went off to college and we took over his bedroom. His oldest son is a teenager now. Ye gods. Yes, I think a new old carpet in the bedroom might be a splendid idea. New wallpaper while we're at it. Maybe some paint.
And the dresser in the guest room -- the dresser that belonged to the youngest son, and before that to the middle son, and before that to the middle son's best friend in elementary school -- that's going to get moved, too, so the lowboy that has been in the family since sometime in the 17th century (and no, I'm not kidding) can leave its rarified locker habitat and come home to stay.
I know, I know. What are we thinking keeping an ancient and venerable lowboy of deep family significance in a locker, for heaven's sake? Consider the alternative. What sane person would keep a slightly rickety somewhat brittle 17th century lowboy in a house with a multitude of boys and dogs?
But the boys are grown and gone now -- and the dogs are, well, no longer puppies. At least that's what we tell them. And in the guest bedroom the lowboy will not be subject to much duress -- as long as the grandsons who stay in that room don't decide to play hockey in it (and as it's barely 9 feet square, hockey is seldom an option).
So, that's the paintings and the oriental rug and the lowboy dealt with. None of which I had any intention of tackling until the map cabinet reared its handsome head. And none of them have much of anything to do with the map cabinet at all, except that it inspired the clearing of the locker and, thus, everything else.
Consequently (I did mention consequences, didn't I?) I have my work cut out for me for the summer. That map cabinet has a lot to answer for.
Maybe Spence should buy a map cabinet. You think?
In life, however, it really does. The map cabinet, for example, has already started a chain of events that would snowball if I were inclined to mix metaphors. As it is, it has encouraged us to get busy and reorganize and sort and toss and toss and toss. Or perhaps develop a second career selling stuff on Ebay. That seems like a reasonable option.
The Prof went to the locker today. He came home with an itemized list of all the things that we can move back and store which I have guaranteed will not leap out at him or bop him on the head. I hope. I'd forgotten the oriental rug. Not that I expect it to leap or bop. But I can't store it in the map cabinet either.
I am thinking maybe the floor of our bedroom would be a good place. The carpet in it now was laid when our oldest son graduated from high school, went off to college and we took over his bedroom. His oldest son is a teenager now. Ye gods. Yes, I think a new old carpet in the bedroom might be a splendid idea. New wallpaper while we're at it. Maybe some paint.
And the dresser in the guest room -- the dresser that belonged to the youngest son, and before that to the middle son, and before that to the middle son's best friend in elementary school -- that's going to get moved, too, so the lowboy that has been in the family since sometime in the 17th century (and no, I'm not kidding) can leave its rarified locker habitat and come home to stay.
I know, I know. What are we thinking keeping an ancient and venerable lowboy of deep family significance in a locker, for heaven's sake? Consider the alternative. What sane person would keep a slightly rickety somewhat brittle 17th century lowboy in a house with a multitude of boys and dogs?
But the boys are grown and gone now -- and the dogs are, well, no longer puppies. At least that's what we tell them. And in the guest bedroom the lowboy will not be subject to much duress -- as long as the grandsons who stay in that room don't decide to play hockey in it (and as it's barely 9 feet square, hockey is seldom an option).
So, that's the paintings and the oriental rug and the lowboy dealt with. None of which I had any intention of tackling until the map cabinet reared its handsome head. And none of them have much of anything to do with the map cabinet at all, except that it inspired the clearing of the locker and, thus, everything else.
Consequently (I did mention consequences, didn't I?) I have my work cut out for me for the summer. That map cabinet has a lot to answer for.
Maybe Spence should buy a map cabinet. You think?
posted by Anne McAllister at 5:56 PM
1 Comments:
I'd like the lowboy to be in the guest bedroom - then I can enjoy it when I come to stay. And I would like to admire the map cabinet too - it looks a very handsome piece of furniture!
Kate
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