Day Fifty

Day 50, Tuesday May 20. Robin is on his way home from camp. The honey-do list is two pages long. And that is just the little, 15 minutes jobs. Truth is the 15 minutes jobs are actually about three hours each, by the time you gather the tools, supplies, answer the phone, and check what friends are doing on facebook.

But first, lets jump back and to a pictorial review of the last ten days.

Day 40, Living room floor, laminate is down.

Last bit of flooring goes down.

Called Barn Wood, or Driftwood, depending on which label you are reading.

 Day 41. Officially moved in. Our bed made the trip up on a sunny, dry day.

 Day 42, Much of the dog shelter has been removed.

Dog Shelter Before

 

Dog Shelter After

 

 Day 43 - 46 Prepping, priming and painting of living room walls.

Cutting in.

Day 44 Satellite TV installed. A total waste of money in my opinion, but Mr. B gets final say on this one.
 Day 46. Morning sun called me out to photograph the budding leaves. Spring is here.

 Also on day 46, Ran to city for more paint. Came home to find someone had taken a chain saw to the big tree. Still some large parts to cut. Going to need a bigger saw, I suppose. Thanks to the mystery woodsman.

 Cleaning up this place is going to take a long time.....but before the tree was cut up I couldn't even stand over in this corner to capture this view of the house:

Dog shelter, other view.

Day 47 The Living room walls got their 2nd and final coat of paint. Having some trouble with getting camera card to download so the pictures for the week sort of stopped here.

Also on Day 47 the ladies of the Colinton Anglican Church came to my old garden to dig perennials for their Annual Perennial Sale.  I hit an emotional wall at this point. We have worked very hard for six years on the gardens at the old house. I am angry at the family members that made it impossible for me to stay there. It was hard to watch the people digging up the flowers, but I kept telling myself that the plants will go to other gardeners. That is a good thing. They cannot stay, because there will be no one interested in looking after them. I am suffering a broken heart, over the gardens and over the lost family relationships. Well maybe not so much over the lost family relationships. More like grief over the relationships that might have been/never were. Dear friend D reminds me that this situation is not my fault. I shrug. I sigh. I pack another box to bring to new house.

Days 48 and 49, I continue to struggle with my emotions. Sometime I look at the new place and hate it, for the loss it represents. Poor old house. This situation is not her fault either.