Last night I ordered a camp cot for my brother's daughter to sleep on. It's hardly luxury accommodations, but she's a skinny teenager. She can sleep on the sofa if she prefers, but the cot is likely to be more comfortable since I also ordered a pad and an "egg crate" foam for it. The reviews on Amazon were good (and goodness knows, I believe EVERYTHING I read!), so I hope I won't be disappointed with it.
Now we need to purchase two mattresses, twin-sized, for the new daybed and trundle. I got sheets on sale at Target, and I think I can make do with what I have for coverlets. We have lots of pillows. In short, other than cleaning my husband's bathroom for our guests to use, I've taken care of the basic necessities.
I am really eager to see Curtis. We were close as children, and he even lived with my husband and me for a little while after he got out of the Army. I've never been really close to his wife, but over time, I've developed a relationship with their oldest daughter who is a little older than my younger son. I look forward to getting to know his younger daughter Chelsea who is coming with them, and now that we are all older, I'm sure we'll find that we can occupy ourselves with conversation. I plan to take pictures while they are here since I have almost none of Curtis and his family.
Esteemed Spouse is battling the elements (rain and wind) to play golf today. Is this the same man who grumbles about having to go get the mail from the mailbox if it's sprinkling rain outside? Perhaps if he were to practice his putting from the house to the mailbox, he could entertain himself sufficiently, regardless of the elements. It had rained heavily during the night, and as he slept, I got out of bed to shut our bedroom windows. When his alarm went off, he crawled out and dressed and went off to play golf, assuming the course was playable after the deluge.
I had a weird dream the other night that he'd "improved" our house by adding clawfoot-style Victorian bathtubs. The kicker is that he'd put them inside the bathtubs we currently have, so it was a tub inside a tub. Useful, eh? He would never do that, of course, but there are things he does that are just as mystifying. Like giving away/throwing away useful things. One of the reasons I lean so hard toward never throwing anything away is that he leans so hard in the other direction. If he doesn't see an immediate use for something (and he has NO imagination), then out it goes. Somewhere there is a landfill named for him, I'm sure. I prefer to repurpose, recycle, reuse, whenever possible. He's so literal that if he looks at a thing, he sees only what it "is" at that moment. I reuse coffee canisters by putting my crocheting yarn in them. He looks at the can or plastic container and thinks "garbage." Those same canisters would be ideal for painting projects around the house. Instead, if he has a painting job to do, he'll go out and purchase a specially designed plastic container that, other than the label, looks nearly identical to the coffee canister he just tossed out.
Is it a curse to have too much imagination? I hope not, because if it is, then I'm doomed. I appreciate my spouse's pragmatism most of the time, but if the world was decorated by him, it would be a bleak and ugly place. I decorated his home office, so it has a bit of color and personality. His office at school is clean, stark, and efficient. He loves it. I start to itch to leave the second I get in it. There are no elements of personality, no photos, no bits of color, no greenery, no knickknacks of any sort. His shelves are nearly bare. His desk is bare. Minimalism at its peak.
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