Enchantments
Musings About Writing and Stories About Life

She's like the girl in the movie when the Spitfire falls
Like the girl in the picture that he couldn't afford
She's like the girl with the smile in the hospital ward
Like the girl in the novel in the wind on the moors

~~Marillion
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Getting closer

AETW: 675

We rented the sander today and sanded the floor. Well, Ken did, bless his heart. I had the easy job of painting all the baseboards &tc. Only two pieces needed to be primed—we bought rest pre-primed—so it was mostly two coats of white. I need to stain two other pieces, but it’s getting dark and dinner (ham, biscuits, coleslaw) is imminent.

While painting isn’t the most fascinating thing in the world, and it messes up my lower back, in some ways it’s enjoyable. Relaxing, meditative. It gave me time to think about AETW and other projects, and about the whole project of redoing the room. Teresa (who once lived in a early 1900s house that was being renovated around her) says that she and Jeff’s dream is to go on a three-month vacation and come back to find their new dream house built and ready. I’m not so sure that would work for us. Ken said that he doesn’t want the money to pay someone to do this, he wants the time off to do it. While I’m less knowledgeable about it, I truly enjoy being his sous-renovator. (And, we’re not doing things to the scale that our friend Kathleen did—no ripping out of walls or replacing whole bathrooms! Actually, she’s an architect and did the design and was her own contractor; she didn’t do the work herself. But still. Terribly impressive.) The best part will be when I curl up on the sofa in that room, look up at the starry ceiling, and think, “We did this.”

At one point this weekend, a very tired Ken said, “We could have gone to Vegas or somewhere and blown a thousand bucks instead.” Well, yes. And it would have been fun, and we would have been together, and we would have had cool stories and memories. But that’s all we would have had. Instead, we’re making this place better, and making it ours.

Meanwhile, even though I have a headache, I’m going to try for at least 500 words.

Eek. Just got an e-mail from Ellen Datlow. (Scary, no?) Apparently my ms. _finally_ arrived—which means there’s postage due on the return. She says she’ll cover it this time. I need to buy more stamps.

There, more than 500 words. A decent scene, and I know what happens next, so all is well. Except my tiredness and vague headachy-ness and I are going out to snuggle with my beloved. G’night.


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