Trouble in paradise.....was the subject of the email I sent to Jason and Michael at 10:10 this morning. It's not enough for them to know about structure, planning, engineering, construction, drawing and all of that other stuff that architects and designers know....what kind of pens to use, coffee to drink, phones that work, socks that are warm. They have to be prepared to deal with the dysfunctional and psychotic mood swings of the deadbeat client.
Still high on the Black Fox paint fumes and a little glass in some windows from last week, I decided to set off for Chicago on Sunday to search for the perfect couch for my perfect house. (We have Bass Pro, Macy's, Sears and Lazy Boy here in Springfield.) I got a $45 room on Priceline.com at the Residence Inn on the end of runway #17 at O'Hare, drove into town Sunday afternoon after an 8+ hour trip, and spent two and a half days sitting on every couch and every chair at Room and Board, CB2, West Elm and Ikea. It was definitely the kind of trip that could only be made alone. Fueled by Chinese food and whole sacks of kettle corn, I drove thousands of miles.....mostly within the Chicago city limits....and found three, count 'em, three possible couch choices and a few likely chairs. It was a great time. But no place for sissy drivers.
I took all of my Chicago literature, fabric swatches, possible couch measurements, tape measure, and blue masking tape out to the house yesterday, so I could get an idea of where the couch would go, when I got it, and how it would fit with a dining table that theworkshop 308 was going to make for me. That's when the trouble in paradise began.
Dear Jason and Michael:
I had a hard day at the house yesterday. I had my tape measure...BLUE masking tape to stick on the floor...measurements for the couch I found...and the plan to put a table (that you will build) on casters, behind the couch, about in the middle of the room. I just couldn't get it right. I just couldn't get it right. And I didn't like it. I worked on it for 2 hours there...changing the location of the couch, of the table, paring the couch down to a love seat, changing the table to a free-standing round one, making the table a drop-leaf with two chairs, having no couch at all but chairs instead. DAMMIT. The house looks best empty I think. Then, I found a plan that might work: put the couch against the back wall...eliminate my small counter/chair space at the end of the kitchen counter...put the table (and I know it will be the most fantastic table known to man) in front of the spectacular window. It may block some of the view, but it will (1)allow me (and anyone else) to sit at the table and look out, (2) put me at a more comfortable distance from the fireplace/TV, maybe even allow for a chair facing inward at the other window, and make a clear passage to either kitchen or hall. Boy, do I need your help. And, boy, am I ever glad that you weren't there yesterday to see me whining and carrying on. I was even ready to glass in the screened porch to put the table out there. So, what do you think? And don't just say, that's fine. Really think about it and tell me what you think. Think. I'm losing it, I think. I have to eat my stupid lunch now. Let me know. I had nightmares last night. A truant's mother was taking too many shoes from the Kiwanis Shoe Bank and I knew it, but didn't know what to do about it....and she was keeping her children OUT OF SCHOOL.....but amassing a pile of new shoes....to sell for drugs. Do you have the name of a good counselor? marti
Today.......I took a hot shower, ate lunch with my sister and two cousins, met Michael at the house, discussed the options available, (like a mature and reasonable 65-year-old woman who wants to live in a Black Fox Shipping Container house), measured and put BLUE tape where the couch would go against the wall, talked about the table.......and now, all is right in the world. All is right in the world.
People everywhere are starving, the economy is changing lives daily, there are problems around each and every corner.........and I'm worrying about couch placement? Saying DAMMIT in an email? Putting parentheses around numbers that detail my personal comfort level? Having nightmares about shoe thieving?
When I over-dosed on popcorn, a couple of weeks ago, I felt moved to write about Gabe sticking his tongue in a wall socket, for example, and how he turned that into the ability to be a successful engineer.....and a whole page of more random and disconnected thoughts. I later called that a bit of "bad blogging". I'm now thinking that it may have been the Chinese food and kettle corn that sent me into this latest episode of inappropriate behavior. Sorry. I'm over it now. It's not my fault.