Fall comes around every year
… and so does Fall prep. This Fall, the front porch steps needed attention;
they were painted in the Spring of 2019, but foot traffic has scarred them and
that needed to be tended.
I’ve been procrastinating
with the task.
I don’t like people watching
me – but here, at Heron Pointe, where houses are literally within a stone’s
throw from each other there’s no way to avoid someone watching every move you
make. It’s unnerving.
This morning I had to ignore
the busybodies and just “get to it!”
So, I gave myself a few pep
talks while I drank my morning coffee … then I got the leftover paint from the
shed and got busy.
I also wanted to overwinter
the garden hose in the shed, so I would need the wheel barrow (the hose
basket is bulky to heft and carry); so, I loaded the wheelbarrow with the paint
can, a broom (to sweep the steps clean), and a heavy-duty hammer maul … then
I moved the geranium bins so I could get through the breezeway with the
wheelbarrow.
I had noticed the other day
while lifting the geranium pots from the porch steps, that the top step board
looked like it was starting to pull away, so I thought I’d hammer it back onto
place before I started painting.
That was not as easy as
assumed it would be! I struck with force several times (I have mentioned in
several posts that I am not a gentle person) – but the hammer just
bounced back; and the spent energy was useless ☹
The board was not budging.
So, I placed the hammer back
in the wheelbarrow … opened the paint can, stirred the paint, and got busy.
Whoever was peeking out their window to see what the widow was up to, had a
pretty good view of my jean-clad-ass-end for a half hour.
The steps weren’t the only
things that needed refreshing: while the steps dried, I switched out the Summer-themed
porch decors to Fall updates – and I trashed the owl rug. It no longer {fits}.
And the coho bench will be
sold. The bench no longer {fits} either: I bought the bench for Bob … and Bob
is no longer here. I have been sitting on it, but in all honesty, it is just
taking up space; and I am not comfortable having it around. I know that
sounds silly, but that’s the long and short of the situation. So, it
has got to go. I am pretty confident that it will quickly find new home, to be
appreciated by a new family.
The bench represents Bob,
and as much as Bob is still very much part of my life – he is not here, he will
never be here again, and I have got to move on with my life. The bench will
be replaced with something that fits my personality: something new for a
New Life.
It has taken a
loooong time for me to come to this point; I am “moving forward” in ways that make sense to me.
