yes dearest readers, such is the extent of our 'positively beaming' in the shed these days, i must indeed break down our new/old carpet moment into a two parter. for those that have rambled alongside of me for many a year will know this here home we like to call Mossy Shed was a sad and neglected little place upon arrival of us, three years ago.
the first year we did a brilliant job at ripping out this, tearing out that and slowly but surely breathing life back into the old girl, but then as is often the way with massive remodeling sort of jobs you run out of steam and you run out of doe... leaving a nest 90% done and 10% still to go.
earlier in the year i noted to my man i felt the need to move on to another nest, for my nomadic creative soul needed new pastures green. he looked at me in horror and then voiced since when had i ever been a nomad, i who never ever leaves my nest. i pointed out it was not my actual body which felt the need to move on, but my creative spirit which obviously comes from nomadic descent and therefore requires this continuous 'to the point of obsessive' need to shuffle things around.
he then wisely pointed out we loved our shed. to which i agreed whole heartily, but then i also pointed out that certain areas of her, i did not. he then wisely pointed out it is far more savvy a move to finish up the forgotten 10% then to actually move to another forgotten soul of a home requiring 100% attention.
gosh, well right there and then was the conversation we needed to have, to pull up our knee socks. well actually my man did not, for he does not possess such things, however he does have those kind of almost calf length socks leftover from his days of wearing businessy business attire. so he pulled those up really high and they did a good job at stretching up to his knees. i did not have my knee socks on but an old pair of woolly tights, darned in the toes and lacking in elastic around the waist, thus being held up by having my undervest nicely tucked in tightly. so i pulled those up so they were also nice and properly high up, with no baggy crotch thing going on and we set to work...
the cans of white paint came out and the wonderfulness of my friend Maggi happened! after 3 years of living with a 'can't work with you as much as i try' 30 year old green carpet, this past monday, 2 men and 12 hours later we had ourselves a beige secondhand granny carpet resplendent in the shed. truth be told it had to be patched and pieced in places a carpet should not be, but we did not care, no sirree! for anything was better than what we had on the stairs, landing and three bedrooms before our lovely granny carpet came to stay.
"i have three shades of beige in my bedroom" exclaimed Our #4 at 8pm on monday after the fellows had left. it appeared he seemed genuinely delighted with his good fortune
"it reminds me of something a granny would knit" said Our #3
"do you think so! really?" i excitedly hoped so
"why yes, if you look at the self pattern in it, it looks like one of those sweaters they knit" he continued "i thought you would be happy to hear that" with a twinkle in his eye
and i was dearest readers, i was.
for in an ideal world i would have wood flooring throughout my shed, but this was never going to be and therefore the next best thing was a secondhand granny chic carpet kindly gifted to us by a friend.
today sees me 'a shuffling and a shifting' the bedrooms back together whilst hammering in nails and hanging pictures, and tomorrow the white paint comes out again to finish up the rest of the dark wood. for it is hard to remember but when we moved here everything in this shed was dark. the walls, the doors, the wood trim and the ceilings... little by little with a 'slight hiccup' in between of two years, we are back on the road to finishing up Mossy Shed and making her feel not 90% loved but 100%, just as she deserves.
she has an urge to crochet for the first time in yonks ~ Tif
footynote: just in case you may be wondering, 'cos that is perfectly okay to do, some of the best folks i know wonder often. the board at the bottom of our stairs is a 'pesky little olive' gate. thus allowing the furry feline friend to live happily upstairs without interruption from a pesky doggie... knocked together by my man and myself, no less :)
