My husband is a contractor. We gutted our current house WHILE we moved into it (still shuddering). This was five years ago and we are still under construction. Therefore it shouldn't surprise anyone that a dumpster appeared in our driveway six days ago and our kitchen disappeared from our home two days ago. Well, most of it...there IS still a bit of ceiling and lathe and horsehair plaster waiting patiently to make their swan-dive into said dumpster.While my cupboards are gone and my dishes have been relocated to the dining room buffet...my dining room table is GROANING, "Why me???" Because this poor, piled piece of furniture has taken the brunt of kitchen utensil refugees needing to be re-settled. I feel like defending the state of my home by asking "Doesn't everybody have to step over a toaster oven on the way to the bathroom?" but that's just silly...I do really think the Tupperware shoved into the black soup pot does kind of make the desk "POP." Brings out the lustrous shine of oak patina...maybe I'm on to something...or not.
Yesterday,our hometown's humidity was heavy enough to make even the anti-winter die-hards pray for a blizzard. Stress doesn't begin to label the "irritable, grouchy, heavy-sweating, over-crowded dining and living rooms, no kitchen, can't find the stupid toaster-oven" mood that had covered our "haven." My husband, Steve, and I had just finished an uncharacteristic "snarky" loud exchange (in front of kids...I know-so ashamed) before I walked out on the porch to escape with my morning breakfast of oatmeal, coffee, and a book. I crossed to the patio table thankful to have a fenced in yard so I didn't have to do an army-man-crawl to avoid the neighbors catching glimpse of my pink nightie at 11a.m. Everyone that knows me well, knows that I do not operate well in extreme heat. Add humidity to the heat and we have an emotional "Perfect Storm." I was grumbling about Steve going dove hunting with the boys while we were surrounded by demolition fall-out so I didn't hear the first high-pitched "Hellllllooooooo" that accompanied an unfamiliar silver car pulling in the driveway. I was the epitome of the deer in headlights. I know I've mentioned our 15 passenger blue van in previous posts...well, I wanted to hug or dive for cover behind it for the dignity it would save while the silver car did a turn around then kept moving. I prayed this friendly lost soul would just need directions for a destination unknown. I was caught...I was a glistening, red-faced, jammie cladden woman escaping a war zone. I had been spotted...but I could still justify throwing my oatmeal and scurrying back inside to get Steve to deal with this. With my hand on the door handle I heard the unmistakable voice of my mother..."Helllooooooo Suuusie! Do you have tea?" Uh..I stammered. We..my..ther... "Mom, is that you?" was all I could manage to the woman hanging with waving arms out of the passenger door. Kids appeared from the lathe and plaster destruction inside to yell, "Gramma's here!"
I disappeared inside for a moment then returned with a feeble hello and an explanation we had just ripped our kitchen out...so our house wasn't exactly presentable. I instantly felt bad that my mother and her friend from church looked uncomfortable...though maybe the look was about my paisley green and blue robe I had ran for while kids circled Gramma. There was a bit of chit chat while they suggested I stand in the shade from the large van. Hmmm, was my glistening forehead that apparent...or maybe it was the scent of an overheated woman about to go over the edge?? She's gonna blooow....like a hot potato that hasn't been pierced with a fork to let the steam out. My mother and her friend were wonderfully kind in their desire to put me at ease and after all, they had no idea what space I had been in.
Either way...they didn't stay long...and I managed to eat my oatmeal without grossing myself out to much worrying about if a fly had landed on it. As I ate my "brunch" I thought of how Mother Teresa had visited a woman's hut of a home. The woman was all smiles as she welcomed her guest into her dirt floored abode. Mother Teresa learned from that and shared that we never have to apologize for our house..it is our home! I can't imagine what I would have done if Mother Teresa had pulled in my driveway yesterday morning (besides for obvious reasons) but my own mother arriving unannounced with a guest was enough of a challenge. I suppose it's a lesson for me to remember it's all about the smile that welcomes...not the house. I went back in the house and joined the social media avenue of apologizing to Steve- via texts- kinda fun without the emotional drama...we were able to be silly with each other (smiley faces can work magic).
Today, I'm sitting in my home..not a whole lot has changed...humidity still has me sweating...but there is a Peace, that might have a little to do with six children being in school, but mostly due to accepting that this too shall pass...and double bonus: I get to make you feel VERY GOOD about the state of your own home!!
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