Wednesday, July 27, 2016

     As I hold onto the walls in order to walk the tiny path left by our tile installer, I chuckle at how much one must adapt to every situation when one moves. If my toes go outside the lines, they will stick to the cement primer, and I will be held hostage in a stress crack indefinitely. Ah, yes, the sacrifices one must make when agreeing to change. 

     The garage (with tiny house attached perched on a mini bluff overlooking the pool, the frog-chorale pond and a nature area full of flower-sucking deer) is now home to boxes of tile and bags of almost-grout. I cringe to think of the dust which will form a lovely layer over Mr. Wonderful’s pride and joy. Don’t want to go in there when he discovers the cartoon I drew on the front bumper.

     As I sit here and look out the doorwall, pink puffy clouds creep up behind strangely-still, perfectly-shaped palm trees, and I say a thank you prayer for Mother Nature’s “put-all-this-in-perspective” message.

     Good Morning, Wednesday.