This week marks the official change. Up till now, moving has been an idea without shape or form. Starting tomorrow, moving moves into our home.
Child the time has come for you to go
You will never be alone
Every dream that you have been shown
Will be like living stone
Building you into a home
A shelter from the storm
I love our home. Josey has taken a collection of western knick knacks, some choice pieces at second-hand markets, and once or twice . . . or a few times more, some neighborhood garbage picked furniture, and she has created a shelter for our family.
Once, she bought a medium sized cabinet from a friend across the way and asked me to go pick it up. I carried it from their apartment, down the seven flights, up our seven flights, and into our bathroom. The next morning, there were three cockroaches the size of my big toe, scurrying across the floor.. So I took the cabinet onto our porch and sprayed it with Raid . . . instantly 12 cockroaches fell to the ground, squirming. I sprayed some more. More fell.
I brought it into the stairwell of our apartment complex and paid the guards to carry it down and throw it away.
But this is what I love about our home, that it's filled with homemade projects, attempts and failures, and then more attempts and some pretty awesome wins. Like make-shift fire places, coffee tables, and mantle pieces. We made them. Well, Josey made them and I did what I was told. They have our ideas and work. They have and are us.
We love our home. Because it's Home and its cozy and warm and full of colors and wood and stories.
And tomorrow, we price it and prepare for Saturday when we'll sell it. All of it.
Our day to day.
Child the time has come for you
to say goodbye
to your shelter from the storm
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