T.G.I.F.

A long week, the upcoming weekend--a much needed brain and body break. The house is not done yet--the floor company installing our floors has much to learn about craftsmanship and customer service. The flooring itself is beautiful, the installation a nightmare . We are not done yet. Seems that the company (whose name is InstallRight) installed it wrong. The second attempt at placing the stair nose failed miserably--the color right this time, but they were a foot short on the material needed and the mitered edges don't quite meet. No amount of floor putty can fill in a 1/4 inch gap. Would of/could of/should of learned how to use a protractor in math class? The installers themselves were nice enough, but they weren't given a project layout from the measurer, did not lay the stair nose out before they cut it, and could not use an engineers triangle to figure out the mitered cuts. Perhaps you should teach your installers the realities of an older house--where all angles are not perfectly right ( I can't believe I used the word perfect with right). These are our frustrations, I am hopeful for a positive outcome ( it's that Pollyanna mentality of mine).

We are in the process of lightening our load, clearing out our accumulation of things. I have a friend who he and his wife go through every 5 years and burn what they haven't used or missed, he calls it a scorched house policy. I am not quite ready for the metaphoric bonfire--my husband loves this idea--but I am beginning to see the beauty of less. I am going through my house trying to find homes for things that I have accumulated that I love but don't want to keep--a set of music box carousels are going to my friend Bonnie--and I think my friend Patty might want my display case for her husbands archaeological finds-perhaps my sister Michelle will want my rattan dining room set for her covered patio-the rest of the things will be donated to Good Will. I am actually getting excited about the less--the empty--the openness of space---of course we will still be buried in books, photographs and computers---and the sentimental--the Snoopy Lunch Box, the vase Dr. Quane gave me when I married, the first picture of our daughter, the wood carving Margaret gave me of mother and child, Rachael's Doogie Dog, the bowl Rach made me in 3rd grade---the poem written by my friend Nicole---all of these pieces of heart and more I shall keep.

The photo, one from Galveston Beach, I wanted to hear their wisdom, to speak gull--I prayed for the gift of understanding, to be able to speak in the tongue of the gull, much like my grandmother was given the gift of tongues. A translation inspired by the grace of God. My grandmother a devout Pentecost--her gift forgein, to my Methodist ears--