Enter The Plan: 2014. The plan involved diving into a project that would take up a lot of time. This 4th of July that project was to chalk paint a doll bed and table and chairs set that I used to play with when I was a little girl. The bed will get used for a dog bed for Levi and the table and chairs will go at the end of my dining room in place of a 1940’s coin-operated motel radio/bed stand that I’ve got up for sale. I’ve never liked the radio, as quirky and fun to talk about as it is. It was Don’s and it’s time to let go and claim a bit more of the house as my own. What a project! My childhood furniture had been down in the basement and it grew mole after my flood last year. So I had to scrub it down with bleach water one day then I painted it with a sealer the next day, and after that I spent time two days in row painting them with two different colors of chalk paint. A chalk paint project isn’t done when the paint dries. Next comes the distressing and waxing to give the pieces that “shabby chic” aged look. The Plain worked. I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself, imagining the whole world was off having fun in the sun.
I stopped by to see my sister-in-law on the forth. She’s ten years older than me and used to own the wheelchair friendly cottage where I took part in many holiday potlucks. She jokingly calls me Mother Superior because she thinks I give such sage advice when we get to gossiping about her family. I wish she would have asked me for advice before she sold the cottage. I would have told her, “No, F-ing way should you do that! It will scatter the family!” But she didn't ask and maybe that's a good thing because she would have died of shock to hear the F word coming out of me, her "wise nun" who always knows the right things to say. (Don't I have her fooled.) Like I said, I miss the old traditions---families on the 4th, food of all descriptions, the fireworks, the boat parades and even the mosquitoes because they liked me best. But life changes and we must do the same. Roll with the punches. Adapt. Keep a stiff upper lip. Can you think of any other platitudes I left out? So, all long holiday weekends from now on will be project zones here on Widowhood Lane. If I remember. I'm old and I might forget. ©