Home sweet home. Nothing is finer even if it is just 700 square feet. Some days I think I've mastered living in such a tiny space with two kids and then I look around. This place is trashed. If you give me a days warning I can clean the entire house for you, but otherwise if you show up unannounced you may not make it in the front door, that is not a joke. The door could get stuck on all sorts of things from boots to shopping bags, because here everything is everywhere.
Maybe I am feeling especially sensitive because we drove many an hour to get here and with so much work to catch up on the contents of that road trip now cover all available walking space. It's as if a small bomb went off in our house. Like the kiddie swing that made it under the kitchen table/sewing studio while I legalized our wines in Washington, or the empty puzzle holder leaning on the laundry baskets under the top of the suitcase. So even as my eyes burn with weariness, I dream of shelving and my trunk full of bags for Goodwill.
But then, I awake to 3 cups of coffee and Edi's puke and outrageous diapers. So I start. I walk in circles putting crap away, then change a diaper, vacuum, then change a diaper, wash sheets, hang them on the line, then change a diaper, this repeats for 5 hours when finally I give much needed bubble baths only to change the diaper again. Love really is unconditional.
If you think so too, you can buy one of Edi's posters, designed and printed by the Little Friends of Printmaking, here for $25.