Friday, September 11, 2015


I suppose I could just keep on chanting Twenty Summers and hope that I have that many left.  There is a very good possibility that I will live until I am 86.  My mother turned 89 this past June and she was positive with all her "health issues" real and imagined that she would never make it to 80.  Grandmothers and aunts on both sides for the exception of two women made it well into their 90's.
Then again............ya just don't know.
So, keeping those cheerful and thought provoking ideas in mind, I'm on my way to paring down my baggage for the next hopefully 18 summers.
I've made the commitment to create a working "wet" studio in the garage. And, by working I mean it will not be filled with boxes of things to be sorted, or items broken and in need of repair or anything that needs to be sent to the charity store. 
I marched back to John's workshop to find paint primer. We have an understanding, I don't comment on his workshop and he doesn't comment on my studio space. While I searched for the paint  I reminded all the cats that they have three litter boxes and the sawdust in the corners of the shop are NOT available bathroom space. 
Found the primer can looking distinctly like the kind of paint we used to buy 35 years ago from a now out of business paint store.
Surely, this can't be the only can of primer around. After shaking it and opening the rust covered lid, let us just say I decided that a trip to Home Depot was in order.
The nice retired gentleman was more than happy to help "the little lady out". I waltzed out of the store with disposable paint trays, a new metal paint tray, 1 gallon of beautiful white primer, a package of assorted sizes of paint brushes and a long stick that screwed into the end of the new paint roller which came with three new pretty yellow fluffy rollers. 
The first difference in style and opinion occurred after painting the first taped and "muded" (is that right?) wall board wall. I being of the opinion that one layer of primer paint and one layer of an off white paint I found in the workroom, labelled downstairs accent wall, would be enough. Especially since a large metal shelf stood in front of it all.
Ok, it would have been fine but now that one coat of primer, replastering some of the tape, two coats of "accent" paint have been applied it does look nice. Of course, with the bookcase in front of it all, it's just a memory now. 
Well, then chant "just keep painting" and you can say that in Ellen's voice as she sang "just keep swimming" to Nemo's father. 
Again, and I know I have said this before over the years, if you give a job to me it has a domino effect like that silly, If You Give A Bear A Cookie book. Shelving had to be taken down for the main back wall to be done right. Brackets, that held up said shelving, had to be spray painted a nice sassy apple red (my idea) instead of the standard gray, with a spot of rust. Taping and plastering or mudding can't remember which it is had to be redone until said plasterer was happy. Touch up on both wallsdue to shelving bumping or touch up plastering. 
And, then he utters, "You know the ceiling is going to look really nice if we finish off the taping and plastering and paint that with the primer. Two coats mind you.  The clever stick that screws into the handle of the paint roller.........well if you have great upper body strength you can get a decent amount of paint from the roller to the ceiling. 
My "wet studio" is finished. The cement wall has two lovely coats of bright white primer, the ceiling has two and the bookcases are back where they belong.  I've returned the gallon of floor paint deciding that enough is enough and I am just going to get dye on the floor anyway.
I can now start moving all the summer dye supplies that we used in our workshops this summer over into the new studio space. Hopefully, with the space heater and the garage being attached I can work out there well into the end of the year.

Yes, I can now see a door opening a crack, a window opening, the old being replaced by the yet unknown new.
I loaded the car with things to donate, stopped at St. Vinnie's then dropped off a large plastic tub filled with musical instruments that I collected from a short stay in Mutare, Zimbabwe, to the music teacher at Riley's grade school.  She was delighted and so was I.
On the drive home I realized that it had been 19 years since I had opened that container. My oh my how time flies. I actually moved that tub to this house 15 years ago and it still didn't get opened, just stored on a shelf. My God, what was I waiting for? Surely, I can't be the only person in the world who does stuff like this. Well now they have a new home and apparently a far better one then I was providing for them.
There is still more "baggage" following me around. Oh do stay tuned for another fun filled admission of my inventory adventures.
It will either provide you with time to gloat about your simplified lifestyle or perhaps get you off your couch and loading some of your own baggage out to the trash.

:)Bea, who now has a free hand for about a minute!


  1. Anonymous10:01 PM

    Welcome back. Bea! Missed visiting your amazing, funny, frustrating, beautiful world. You always bring a smile. Hi to all the 3150's--great work! Susan A. in Alabama.

    1. Hope all is well with you. Thanks for stopping by! Keep on Creating. :)Bea

  2. Applause - applause!!! I've been doing that for about five years and now am pretty well cleaned out except maybe for my studio. It's amazing how much lighter your life feels when you pare down all the "stuff". Congratulations and I'm sure you're going to enjoy that studio!

  3. Hi Jill, it does feel good doesn't it. I just keep plugging away at it. Thanks for stopping by and keep on creating! :)Bea