This will be a quick post, (apparently I don’t know how to do a quick post) because there is Deadline Knitting to be done and with the last couple of months of chaos finally over (knock on wood), I have ten whole days to focus on that and that alone. Ahhhhhh.
This past weekend we had an estate sale. In case you haven’t done this, it involves two to three weeks of a few total strangers running rampant through your home pricing everything that isn’t nailed down and throwing out everything that can’t be priced, followed by three days of a horde of total strangers tromping through, poking at everything, and trying to buy it all for even less than the sticker indicates (which is already less than you’d think, because it all has to go in a weekend).
A brief explanation is in order. For the past few years, himself and I have been caring for his mother in her house. Around Christmas, it became clear that she needed better care than we were able to provide: trained care, by people who specialize in her illness. The place she’s living in now is lovely, and the staff there are truly wonderful. She’s doing better than she has in a year, at least, which makes us all feel less awful about the whole thing. In the wake of that, we’re selling the house and its contents, except for a few bits and pieces. The selling of contents is done, and the people who handled it were an absolute godsend, despite my kvetching above. Sorting through 40 years of random stuff from a person who never threw anything out is a herculean task, and the fact that they handled it in three weeks leaves me dizzy. The house will probably take a while to sell — it needs some work, and the market sucks — so we’re here for a while yet.
Now that the sale is over — until the house sells, at least — we have all kinds of empty space, so I’m thinking of moving my work area into a larger room with better light (and without hideous wallpaper. I really hate wallpaper, with a hatred that could burn through steel. Comes from living in too many cockroach-infested apartment buildings, I suspect. Ah, Toronto. Ah, youth.)
So what do you think? Should I move my work space to here:
In its favour (apart from the light and the spaciousness, which both rooms have): it would be all mine; it has some built-in bookshelves; I really like the stone fireplace, even though I can’t actually light a fire in it; in the spring and summer, I can look out at all my potted plants.
This room has even more light, and contrary to what this picture indicates, is about the same size as the last one. Plus, it looks out into the trees. However, I’d be sharing it with himself’s computer desk, which is…um…a disaster area.
Speaking of disaster areas, here’s my current work room, in the aftermath of the estate sale. (It was one of two rooms in which we could store the things we wanted to keep.)
And because this is a knitting blog, here’s a thing I found while clearing out the house:
Since the last known knitter in himself’s family passed away over 20 years ago, this is one seriously aged unfinished object. Time has not been kind to it — note the dreaded moth holes — so it will remain unfinished, though it would have been most satisfying to complete the work of this obviously skilled knitter about whom I have heard so much, and wish I could have met. On the other hand, Chicken-leg Al tells me it’s fine just the way it is.