While the floor regains it’s flatness. Funny, how you expect a floor to be flat, and when you cone downstairs and find it doing something other than being flat, you suddenly realize that flatness was all you really wanted.
So, for the next few days I will be hauling Large. Amounts.Of. Fabric. out of the downstairs, upstairs, and then men with big machines will come tear up the wet part of the floor, put down dry floor, and then sand it all and finish it. Meanwhile, we have decided to move the sewing/TV/video games to the upstairs bedroom and move our bedroom to the downstairs, and in the mean time my husband is getting up close and personal will all my yarn, unspun wool, fabric, sewing machines, and books.Not th kind of thing you really want your husband to think too much about, you know?
The man doesn’t have the grace to have a hobby of his own. No, no fishing, no hunting, no boats, no collectible action figures, nothing. He reads. Preferably library books. Oh, and the internet. He reads maybe twenty newspapers a day, plus blogs and sundry and since we already have internet, no expense there.( If you ever want to know any nuanced fat about any political situation anywhere in the world, just shoot him an email.) When I met him, he was part owner of a single engine plane, and that is truly a hobby that could balance out my rather large fiber habit. But since I, for some reason, refused for him to strap our infant son into a single engine plane and go for sky rides, he eventually gave up the plane.
It’s like coming home to a monk, with a pile of library books, a cup of coffee, and a high speed internet connection.
On the other hand, it leaves more room for all my stuff.