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HOPALONG: how's the house remodel coming along?

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sKePTiKal:
Hiya! I was wondering if you've moved in yet? Started decorating? Doing the fall "meditation" on the yard space for next spring's planting, pruning, etc??
Got internet hooked up yet?

Wot's the news?

lighter:
Yes, yes, yes, Amber.

I was wondering how Hops is doing with her roomate.

Are things still going well, Hops?

Lighter

Hopalong:
aaargh!
Wrote you a loooooooooong description of house, neighborhood, paint colors, wee decisions and obstacles...and it didn't post. Gone ferever.

In a sleepy mode: I'm in, I'm swamped with so many little decisions I feel FOGGY, but I'm happy and grateful to be here! And the piano looks gorgeous, a big surprise. Not crowded at all.

So frustrated my narrative disappeared but too tired to recreate it. Will try again soon.

Still awash in contractors etc but I see the finish line ahead. I'll be unpacking my office for a long time but once curtains are finally up, I'll feel cozy regardless. I am very happy to be here...especially with my own colors around me, at last.

Thanks for asking...
love
Hops

sKePTiKal:
Wonderful news!
That puts a smile on my face, Hops. Stretch out the nesting process, as long as you can. It's got healing properties, at least for me. 2-1/2 years later, I'm still working on it, here. Remembered that I liked to bake bread - so now I start from scratch, learning all over again on new equipment. My winter project. I want to try making crackers... all kinds of seeds and grains. I can't wait to sit back and let my brain make pictures from your words -- once the work is done, and you're all snug in your new house and revelling in the space -- and have a little more energy and time.

I have a theory about those long posts that evaporate into cyber-ether. (You knew there was a theory, right?? LOL) For me, it's like my healthy ego grabs the microphone and starts to expand with all those tiny things that I did - that return a little smile or happy snippet of song or self-satisfaction - and at some point while I'm caught up in the telling of the story (as I want to remember it)... I trip over my unconscious self and wake her up... and she freaks out:

"What are you doing??"

But by then, I'm on such a roll - high on ego-juice - that I ignore her... so she makes sure I push the wrong button, when I go to post. I've actually caught a glimpse of it... once or twice... clicking the cancel button instead of post. But then, I have a pretty active and technicolor imagination...

hee-hee!

Usually, the second time I try to tell that story again -- the unconscious editor has already cut length, eliminated redundancy, and reduced happy, bubbly, excitement down into a dull, semi-cynical tale. Reads like some scientific study that's had all the life squeezed out of it and trying too hard to be taken seriously. It's hard to steal a march on the unconscious editor... but sometimes I really, really wish I could. She can be such a drip... a dictator... scaredey-pants-cat.

What was it Johnny Carson used to say? "I'm waiting with bated breath", Hops...

lighter:
Hops:
It makes me happy to picture you busy in happily colored rooms, with sunny clean spaces awaiting your attention.

Amber:
It's comforting to imagine you dusted with flour, touching your MIL's recipes. 
Nice to picture you manhandling a big mixer, and bowls, yeast, and salt as the smell of fresh baked bread fills your home.

Lighter

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