Hello world, the home of my most amazing friends; how are you?

My friend, have yourself some protein because a novella follows. Repeatedly I’ve not so jokingly said LOL, as relates to me, means long of lung. For the record, what follows solidifies it, I indeed wear two crowns – Long of Lung and Queen of Compensation.

I’m writing to share news regarding my life – a couple things unimaginable as they presently seem to me. My son, who you know is my heart and soul, along with his beloved Elizabeth, are about to make me a grandmother. A GRANDMOTHER! Since Trevor’s birth I’ve hoped for another to enter his life who would love him with an intensity equaling his dad’s and mine and by gosh, it’s happened. Trevor now will have a like hope of his own for his son. Be still my heart.

I couldn’t be more shocked nor excited because Trevor has for so long told me that cats would be the grandchildren I would spoil. He and Elizabeth will welcome a son to this world in the summer, sometime around July 20th, and his first name will be Cat – just kidding, his name will be Beau. Can you believe this is happening? I certainly cannot. All these years my son has hoodwinked me, not intentionally, but because he didn’t think that certain type of Love existed in this world for him. It’s glorious that he found that it does, and, I cannot grasp that these keystrokes are leaving my fingertips! Truly, I cannot. My son is in love and I’m going to be a grandmother! What would his father be thinking, be saying, be doing? How I wish I knew. The Georgetown Road household is ecstatic, jumping for joy, as high as our 70+ year old bones allow.

The second thing I wish to share with you is that I’ve recently been diagnosed with Stage III non-small cell lung cancer. I was told in 2016 following the car accident that the damage to my lungs from the airbag would likely lead to respiratory issues such as COPD and nodules. Following my sister, Sharon’s, 2018 death from lung cancer I asked my PCP if lung cancer screening should commence. He agreed. I grew up in a home filled with smoke. My father worked at Phillip Morris from where he nightly came home with breast pockets filled with loose cigarettes. His circle of friends also worked at PM, also smoked and often filled our home for my mother’s cooking and competitive games of Rook, Spoons and sometimes Twister. With them came more cigarettes, more smoke. It amazes me that I didn’t pick up the habit until I was 20 when because I didn’t smoke and didn’t drink 3.2 beer, I was thought to be boring. I did kick the habit, but I should have held my nose back then and opted for the beer.

The initial 2018 screening presented a nodule thus annual screenings followed. In late 2024 I had my first biopsy. Joyously it was negative. Not so in late 2025. I find it confounding how quickly things can change, how quickly a PETScan can show the fallacies of a month earlier CTScan and how quickly surgical eradication gets traded in for a brain MRI (who wouldn’t want that for a first birthday present of the day @7:45am), radiation, chemotherapy and immonotherapy, and, a severe osteoarthritis (stage IV) right hip surgery that was about to be scheduled but was relegated to the back burner.

The third and final thing I wish to share with you is an invitation. Please know that I will bear no offense should you not accept the invitation, for I want you to both know about the imminence of Beau and about my health status regardless.

My intention prior to the cancer diagnosis was to have a baby shower for Elizabeth. With the initial treatment being surgical eradication, an in-person shower plan became a virtual shower plan. Now with the treatment being radiation, chemo and immuno therapies my only choice is to ask you, if you will, to visit Trevor’s and Elizabeth’s Baby Register to help a new couple welcome a new life by the name of Beau Smo, to this beautiful planet of ours. You have to know how it saddens me to not have you meet Elizabeth and for some of you, meet Trevor too, and to not be able to properly pamper and heap lavishes upon the mother and father-to-be, to not see the joy on their faces and hear their hopeful, playful, amused comments, to share this amazing event in their lives with you, and to hear all the grand-parenting tales and advice you might offer me. Again, I hope you understand my desire, actually it’s a need, to do this for Trevor and Elizabeth, and that my options being whittled were not of my doing.

If you chose, you can visit/view Trevor’s and Elizabeth’s Baby Register via this link. Other considerations are subscriptions (address – Elizabeth Formoso, 590 Lower Landing Rd , Apt 73E, Blackwood NJ 08012):

Diaper Subscription (preference – Honest or Up and Up)
Laundry Subscription
Post-partum Meal Subscription (preference – Blue Apron)

Please ship non-subscription gifts to me (11549 Georgetown Road, Mechanicsville VA. 23116). If a ‘this is a gift’ option is not available at purchase allowing the gifter(?), giver(?) to be identified, send me an email/text letting me know that such and such gift is on its way. Part of the fun of shower gifts is the unwrapping. I and the helpers I may have to solicit will get the wrapping done enabling Elizabeth and Trevor to enjoy the unwrapping fun. I am beside myself in excitement for them and the promise of their future together.

Thank you for indulging me. You all are loved and adored so very much.

Best always,
Marilyn

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“…we’re dear old friends
Catching up again…”
Jason Masi, Catching Up Again

It’s been an awfully long time since I visited our blog to write about all the things going on in our life with Stella on Lee-Hall Farm. I’m excited to be sitting here catching up again.

I’ll start with a visitor so filled with hot air. He came late one afternoon, audibly announcing his arrival from the distance. I believe Sharon had been outdoors and was the first to hear him. As soon as she let me know he was on his way I rushed outside, not with dread as one might think, but with gleeful, giddy anticipation. And then I caught glimpse of him, he was just beyond the fence, big, bold, colorful, and beautifully filled with hot air. He took an unexpected southeastward turn, filling me with disappointment that our visitor would not be spending time with us resting in the back field. Fortunately I snapped a couple of pictures as he approached and then adjusted his path. One might think a hot air filled visitor would be unwelcome, but few are unwelcome here at Lee-Hall Farm. A visitor so colorful, so well traveled, and so beautifully filled with hot air is always welcomed with wonder and gratitude.

Hot Aired Visitor’s Approach

There is majesty all around us, not just in the sky above us, yet we see many beautiful sights as we work and play under the sun and relax under the moon and a canopy of stars. On August 10, 2014, it was a clear night for the largest of 2014’s three perigee supermoons. We’ve enjoyed several bond fires, one of which was May 25, 2014. My niece, Mallory, was full with child. She was miserably uncomfortable, hopeful, nervous, all with good reason – my great nephew, Hayden, was born the next morning. He was several weeks early, except in Mallory’s state of comfort eyes.

August 10, 2014 Perigee Supermoon

Early bonfire for weenie roasting, kept ablaze for conversation and spiced cider under the stars

We’ve worked on outside things and inside things while on our way to make things just right. Sharon grew our 2014 summer vegetable garden. Her main focus was on squash and Hanover Tomatoes. We were happily fed.

As the fall season seemed ever so near, Sharon and I began to prepare a door we had saved from the old house for its ultimate repurpose as a coat rack for the mud room. I hired a man from a neighboring horse farm to complete some projects needing a carpenter’s handiwork. Thus far he took the prepared door and a shutter from the old house and made the mud room coat rack, made new doors and a new ramp for the shed, made and hung shelving for the garage, hung shelving in John’s brewery, made an insert for my sewing table, and has climbed ladders to do things at heights I no longer think it’s wise for me to visit.

Unfinished Coat Rack

Finished Coat Rack

Old Shed – in need of new doors and new ramp

New Shed Doors and Ramp

Well, dear old friend, it’s been nice catching up again. Hope to be back real soon.

“This land is mine, God gave this land to me
This brave and ancient land to me.”

The Exodus Song (This Land), Pat Boone

When I decided on a title for this blog entry, I asked John his opinion of my choice. He answered me with a rousing rendition of the song. We both had a good laugh.

A lot has been happening at Lee-Hall Farm. I wish rain were included in that lot. What a difference between this summer and last. We’re 3.74″ below normal rainfall. How hot and dry is it? If spit doesn’t evaporate before it hits the ground, it does a quick sizzle upon hitting the ground, leaving nary a trace.

In this arid heat I’ve been trying to keep our new grass, trees, shrubs, and perennials with their shallow root systems alive. It’s nearly been a full time job and I shudder to think of how many gallons of water has been used. John and I are very grateful that when it came time for a new well several years back, Sharon opted for a deep well. Two weeks ago we decided that we’d let the grass go dormant, or die as the case may be, and concentrate on the trees, shrubs, and perennials. With that cut back I’m down from full time to three-quarter time – it still takes an incredible amount of time to keep everything thriving. Well, almost everything, we have lost two perennials.

Left front planting bed

We were able to enjoy a fire in the fire pit a few times before it became so ungodly hot. Come autumn and winter, I think we’ll be sitting fire side quite often. Although the long summer days are relished, Sharon, John, and I do have longing thoughts about shorter, cooler days when we can enjoy the fire pit as a cooking apparatus by having weiny roasts. In the picture below, make note of the shed doors. Soon they will be a-changin’.

Fire pit. Anxious to learn the color of the Crepe Myrtles.

At long last we have a graveled driveway. It’s smooth (although I wouldn’t want to walk barefoot on it). No more lumps, bumps, or low spots and the drive finally meets the garage and carport apron.

I love a shapely driveway!

Remember the trees we had trimmed last year? Homer, Marjorie, Lisa, and Bart? They are flourishing! I am so glad I didn’t listen to the naysayers about Marjorie. She’s loving her new lease on life.

Marjorie to the left, Bart to the right.

Sharon volunteered to plant this year’s garden as I was too overwhelmed with inside work in early spring and both inside and outside work in late spring and into the commencement of summer. She couldn’t bear the thought of no personally grown Hanover Tomatoes and knew John and I later on would kick ourselves without them as well. I can’t recall how many tomato plants she planted, but I know she planted just four summer squash plants. Those four plants have produced so many squash that I had to search the web for new ways to cook it. Two recipes have been outstanding – a summer vegetable tian and a zucchini feta pie. We’re anxious for the tomatoes to come in. We appear to be the last kid on the block to get them. Sniff. Sniff.

Lots happening on this land that is ours. It’s nice being here. I’m finally beginning of feel like it’s home rather than somewhere I’m visiting.

The Exodus Song (This Land)

The practice of ending life in order to relieve pain and suffering.

Old House – November 2012

It very well may seem a peculiar viewpoint to some that in one way I consider the demolition of my sisters’ and my childhood home as an act of euthanasia. The house was in such a state of disrepair that I could not finance its renovation. The decision to tear it down was not an easy one to make, in fact it was a sad, painful decision.

The land my parents’ owned has been improved, thus its value increased. In heaven, I believe Mama and Daddy are very pleased.

The farm has been given a name to honor my mother and father. Yet it is sad that its condition made it no longer feel like the home in which I grew up. Pieces of it will live on because they will be given new life in Stella. I hope to use old doors to make a coat rack for the mud room. I hope to use old shutters as shelves and I hope to spruce up two of them to hang on the exterior of the family room windows where they’ll receive long term protection under the screened-in back porch. The old mantel and other doors will find new uses in Stella. Work benches, bells, the Hall family marker, and an outdoor swing are among other things from the old place that will be incorporated into the new place. We hope to use the old well as an irrigation well, and of course there are many wonderful, fond memories that will live on as long as there is someone to recount them, not only the memories from my siblings’ and my youth, but from our children and their youth too. I’m so glad they have their own treasure chest of memories from time spent at Grandma’s and Grandpa’s.

My brother and I not doing a very good job of helping our mother shell peas. I have fond memories of the bounty from the gardens of my youth and the bountiful love and laughter shared with my parents and siblings.

My husband, John, taking a moment from a backyard game of Kadima to pose for the camera. So many, many family and friend picnics, crab pickings, and fish fries took place in the backyard of my parents’ home.

Both my little sister and I held our wedding receptions at our parents’ home. Peggy’s reception was held outdoors, mine inside.

The tearing down of the old place happened, I imagine, in much the same way it went up – piece by piece and not in a day. I also imagine the building transformation was as eye widening as the demolition. Just as the house grew as it was being constructed, it shrank as it was being deconstructed. My sisters and I all commented on the incredible shrinking house. We looked with astonishment, wondering how a family of seven with constant company, both day and overnight guests, lived in a house so seemingly small. When the siding came off, the house lost inches. When the front porch came off, it looked anemic and anorexic. As the house sat with only the black insulation paper on its exterior walls, my little sister, Peggy, teased that the saying, “black is slimming” clearly had been proven and that she’d start wearing more black outfits.

My childhood home missing its front shutters.

My incredibly shrinking childhood home.

No windows, no doors, “open air” attic — all so surreal.

And then she was no more. Bittersweet.

While the demolition was taking place, the shed was moved to behind Stella’s carport. New doors, a new ramp along with new paint, are needed for the shed. During the time this was happening I was on steroids for a muscular issue in my back. Those around me probably thought money was wasted to move the shed, feeling that while on steroids, I could have strapped the shed to my back, walked it from its old location, and set it in its new. I was wound pretty tight and had the energy to light New York City.

Shed gets a lift.

Shed takes a ride.

Shed moving version of a “throw down.”

Time marches on. People and places change. Some changes are welcomed and some are not and some are for the better and some are not. While the changes to my parents’ land and the demolition of the home where they raised my siblings and me may not have been initially welcomed, I believe it has been for the better and I pray, as I believe is so, that Mama and Daddy are pleased and proud and that they share the gratitude I have for John Lennerton for the role he has played in making the improvements possible.

In 1995 Bette Midler released an album entitled “Bette of Roses.” “I Know This Town” from that album quickly became a song that provides me a lift even when a lift is not necessary. Hearing the song made me think of my youth and growing up in rural Virginia. It was included in my playlist for my road trips to visit Mama and Daddy from its release date forward. Now when I hear the song I won’t just recall riding my bike or the falling down barn or the boy who broke the fence, I’ll also recall the house from where I’d start and finish those bike rides.

I Know This Town and even though it’s no longer in our front yard, I know the house that once was there. The neighbors and the passersby may no longer be able to see it, but I still can.

Actually, we don’t, but if it keeps raining we’re going to need a submarine or an ark. It is discouraging to see the water erosion. The mud has gone so beyond working my nerves.

Never cared for the drink “Mudslide” – after all this mud, I doubt my mind will change.

One of the greatest inventions of mankind is the gutter. We finally have gutters. I don’t think one ever becomes skilled in dodging the rain as it falls from a roof, especially those who aren’t, you guessed it, spring chickens. Never thought I could be so enamored with gutters, but I am. I had to go rounds with the installer to the point of calling the builder requesting that he send another company to provide a quote. The gutter installer wanted to attach gutter downspouts to the columns. What?! I could feel columns throughout the South cringe when I was told the downspouts had to be attached to the front porch columns and carport columns. That’s Southern column sacrilege. My design worked after all, much to the relief of Southern Living magazine, and no quote from a new company was required.

Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head — not so much now that we have gutters!

We finally have cement to walk on in place of those ankle-twisting rocks. Actually rather than rocks it is crushed concrete. The front sidewalk and the cement connecting the front sidewalk, driveway, and the area leading to the brewery has been poured and are enjoying the pitter-patter of our footsteps and Sharon’s dog’s pawsteps.

Walkway Between Breezeway and Brewery

Front Sidewalk – some might say a crooked sidewalk to match a crooked house.

We also have a back patio and walking path connecting the patio to the cement at the side of the house. One can exit every door of the house these days without stepping into sloppy mud and without dodging raindrops! Such luxury I have never known!

Patio In The Making

Inside the house progress is being made, not as quickly as I’d like, but nonetheless being made. Since moving in, the challenges have been the constant barrage of deliveries, subcontractors, and deciding what from John’s and my old houses can be used in the new house. I hadn’t planned for how difficult the fitting of the old into the new would be – different layout and the layout dictates the style much more than I could have imagined. I also had so much more wall space for hanging art and pictures and more surface space for knick-knacks and family pictures. The finished rooms are the dining room, kitchen, master bathroom, and family room (except for hanging the duck plates). I am feverishly working on the guest room at present, as I am crossing everything I can cross in hope that Trevor will be visiting us for Mother’s Day.

Morning Sun In The Dining Room

Finally hung pictures in the master bathroom.

Finally hung pictures in the master bathroom.

Finally hung pictures in the master bathroom – including a favorite picture of Trevor and me.

Found a place for the horse figurines which greatly favor my siblings’ and my horses from our youth. (L-R, Tony, Happy, Kitty, Cee-Cee, and Spooky)

Also inside the house, John’s beautifully designed sound system is finally working as he intended it to work. In addition, I know how to work it – for the most part. It took long enough to get out all the kinks and boy, was it worth it. I love listening to music. John’s and my taste for music is quite diverse and being able to listen to Internet radio allows us to satisfy that diversity quite well. With thousand upon thousand of songs between us in our music libraries, we listen to music so often that we were listening to the same songs over and over. Radio helps to nicely combat that problem.

Sonos Speaker – John’s sound solution for the master bathroom. It sounds great!

We are so anxious for both the inside and outside of the house to be completed. We’re immensely enjoying living in Stella and have a notion that all will be so much more serene and enjoyable when all there is no contractor on any given day’s schedule. I sometimes chuckle to myself when I think of how tired the repeat contractors are of seeing me as I am of seeing them. Other times I silently growl.

Yellow Submarine (from rocksucker.co.uk)

Anyone born after the 1990’s is likely unfamiliar with Buns of Steel, a classic exercise workout program of the 1980’s or with my personal buns of steel (which I don’t believe have been sighted since 1995).

Baby, lemme tell ya, I’m going to try to get glamorous gluts and a styling 6-pack before too long. Today the Nordic Track treadmill John bought me for Christmas, 2012 was finally taken from my sister’s garage and assembled in Stella. I have to tell you, she looks MaVEEluss. I hope someone (or a couple to twenty someones) soon will be saying that about me. John, Sharon, and I so desperately need to get back into better physical form.

Here are a few pictures I’ve taken of partially completed rooms. While only partially completed, they do give us visual respite from the box bombs of the attic, garage, and every inch of closet space in the house. And, I’ll include a before and after fence picture to highlight our intelligence. It was one of our more brilliant life-time decisions.

Exercise Room – modest in its equipment, better health will be ours as a result of including it in our house design plans.

C’mon baby bow my flex (sorry Jim Morrison).

The exercise room also will serve as an office (and will likely be where I iron clothes since there’s a 46″ TV and a nice TV/music sound system in there), hence the old kitchen cabinet between the windows. The cabinet is one of the first ever antiques I bought. I’m glad I was able to find a home for it as storage for office items in the new house.

Family Room – love the storage in this coffee table and the fact that it’s on wheels and can raise to fit right over us for snacks and martinis while lounging on the sofa. Clearly, it’s the reason we need an exercise room.

Family Room – again, there’s stuff sitting about, but until everything has been unpacked what is presently on display may not remain where it is. Don’t know if you remember the reason for the cloth in the doors of the large cabinets. The subwoofer is in the left cabinet so the right one had to match it.

Buns of Steel Can Be
Dangerous in
Thunderstorms!

The Master Bedroom – I wish it were more evident how lovely the window treatments are in this room. The colors so perfectly pick up the shades of blue in the bed quilt and pillows. I love this room, it’s so tranquil. I hope my old stuff fits in well. In choosing colors for the new house, I was very mindful of things to be used from the old house. We needed to be frugal each step of the way.

And now the promised before and after fence pictures.

Fence posts installed on Monday, 3/24. Fence installed on 3/26 – picture of that to come later. Is your eye keen enough to discern why we wanted a fence?

Ahhhh, after fence.

“I was never spellbound by a starry sky
What is there to moon glow, when love has passed you by
Then there came a midnight and the world was new
Now here am I so spellbound, darling
Not by stars, but just by you…”

What a difference a year makes! I’ve heard they say that about a day too (whoever “they” is), but I when it comes to home construction, I’m an authority on the difference a year makes.

The fourth entry to the Lee-Hall Farm blog was written about Monday, March 11, 2013. That was the day the unearthing of the driveway to our new home began. We received our CO (Certificate of Occupancy) on Friday, March 2nd. Our move-in date could have been March 3 or any day the next week, but I thought it fitting to wait and make March 11, 2014 our move-in date. Plus, we weren’t ready. You’d think like “Leaving on Jet Plane”, our bags would have been packed, we’d be ready to go, but we weren’t. Maybe we were afraid to be ready. Maybe in our subconscious we thought there was a curse. After all, John does hail from Boston and folks up there fell under a curse after the 1918 World Series win that lasted until 2004. Four had always been a lucky number for me, but maybe that yankee (yankee, not Yankees) from Boston changed all that. 2004 was a good year, but would 2014 be? Four and four add up to 8 — 1918. The mind can wonder, can’t it?

We weren’t ready because loose ends had to be tied and we couldn’t call the moving company and ask, “Hey, how about moving us tomorrow?” And so, I chose March 10 and 11. It would also help me keep dates straight in my mind. If you’ll recall from earlier posts, I’m not what “they” call a spring chicken (in this case, there is no question about who “they” are).

We had the greatest moving team. Five gentlemen moved us, four the first day, three the second with two gentlemen being with us both days. Anyone who has ever moved, especially from a dwelling where you’ve collected ‘collectibles’ for over twenty-five years and then have that compounded by moving two dwellings of collectibles, knows how placid the moving experience is not. When those boxes of collectibles start coming at you faster than the urge to potty when stuck in traffic after drinking a Big Gulp or for the women folk – when that probe first hits your belly during a pregnancy ultrasound – you throw up your hands and let the words you know you’ll regret leave your mouth, put it in the garage or worse yet, put it in the attic. You know darn well you’ll have to move those boxes from the garage or the attic to their proper room, but you can’t help it. Regrettable words always seem to leave your mouth when you have to pee like a racehorse or when boxes begin to pile up around the furniture you’re trying to admire in its new setting of your new home.

Considering the normal stress of a move, overall it was good as moves go, except it’d be nice if the moving company would send over a nice gentleman or two when I’m ready for a box to be brought in from the garage or down from the attic. I’d be thrilled if they’d also deal with the trash of the wrapping paper and boxes. I’d be over the top if they’d hold wall hangings here and there so I could decide upon their perfect place in our new home.

I am trying ever so hard to find new homes for my collectibles before John can find homes for his. You know how it goes, snooze ya lose and last one’s a rotten egg. Ahhh, the advantages of not having unretired! I get to unpack all day while he works. Poor thing, his stuff may become known as homeless.

If only that were true, the I get to unpack all day part. I also get to deal with all the visitors who descend upon you and I get to make all the telephone calls necessary once you move into a new home. Comcast, newly purchased family room furniture delivery, Comcast, guest bed delivery, Comcast, fence installers, Comcast, electricians who install floor outlets once you trick yourself into deciding, yep, that’s where I want the family room furniture to be placed, Comcast, the sound system installer, the brewery insulation installers, Comcast, the sound system installer, the brewery drywall installers, Comcast, the sound system installer, Comcast. Oh, I believe I forgot to mention Comcast.

I kid you not, on March 10, the Comcast tech shows up at 9:30pm and decides to become a dependent. He left at 1:30am on March 11. Of course we found out the next day that he left without thoroughly completing the install. We were in the house two weeks before the installation was a completely correct install. Except for that time when I was close to physically throwing a Comcast tech out of my house (literally, I tell you), I’ve never had a problem with Comcast. I prefer them over Verizon as I experienced Verizon through John when he lived in Boston. On the bright side, I have a couple new BFFLs, and guess where they’re employed – Comcast.

Needless to say, Sharon, John, and I have been working at frantic pace. Even so, we’ve had home cooked meals most nights. Both John and I love cooking in our new kitchen. You might recall that I did my best to get the kitchen set up prior to the move. What will make cooking in the new kitchen even nicer is when John and Sharon learn where everything goes. They’re always asking me where this and where that goes and my answer is always, “In it’s proper place, of course.” They didn’t pay attention when I set up sections in the kitchen, you know, like a cutting board section, a colander section, a used only of the 2nd Tuesday of even months section, and so on.

All that section planning landed me in the ER this past Saturday. I don’t know why we didn’t hire a cleaning service to clean the rental, but it never even occurred to me. I’ve given much thought to hiring a service for Stella, but not once thought about it for the rental. In my desire to hastily, yet thoroughly clean the rental so that we could get back to playing at Stella, I worked so hard and so fast that I got a terrible muscle knot in my back. It was like a crick in the neck, but it was in my back on the right side, under the shoulder blade. It grew progressively worse through the week that come Saturday morning my body began to go into shock from the pain. With the in-hospital treatments and the at-home treatments, by Monday I was back to my old not a spring chicken self. In other words, I returned to being a royal pain in the buttocks.

Another health frenzy came this morning when John awoke from slumber as Sylvester trying to conceal Tweety in his mouth. His cheeks were a might bulging. He at first feared he had contracted the mumps. A trip for him to the doctor came with a diagnosis of an allergic reaction to his Lisnopril/HCTZ medication. After beginning a round of Predisone his cheeks are returning to normal.

Sharon isn’t feeling too spiffy either. She also is working too hard at this moving business. Her symptoms sound like the lumbar symptoms I had in 2003 that required me to get an erector set installed in my back. I’m afraid rest, if a temporary help will be just that, temporary rather than a remedy. We’re all too old for this crap called moving!

John and I have been so lax of late in taking pictures. Don’t know why really, but we are of the mind set, seen one box, seen ’em all. We would have taken pictures except, I ran out of gas. I, I had a flat tire. I didn’t have enough money for cab fare. My party dress didn’t come back from the cleaners. An old friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake. A terrible flood. Locusts. IT’S NOT BEEN MY FAULT, I SWEAR TO GOD. Actually, we’ve been busy.

I would be busy tonight except I can’t do unpacking work that would be quiet enough not to disturb John and Sharon while they sleep. In anticipation of this annoying factor, I decided to make it a writing night and in anticipation of that, snapped a few photos to share of the snail’s progress we’re making. For someone who likes to handle things once, you might say I’m quite frustrated at all the work to yet to be done. Like Scarlet and Annie, fiddle-dee-dee, tomorrow’s another day, I love ya tomorrow. It’s only a day a way.

Fence posts installed on Monday, 3/24. Fence installed on 3/26 – picture of that to come later. Is your eye keen enough to discern why we wanted a fence?

Remember all those pictures we took of an empty breakfast nook, well look, now in it are a table and chairs!

Dining Room – the first room to have something hung on the walls. Except for this collection of plates, I’m afraid to hang anything in case I don’t like where I hang it. I knew that was the only place for those plates. I love them there between the windows. Anna and Kim, the Waterford martini set is as useful as ever! For the record, it’s an illusion that the candles are not centered in the windows — I swear!

Dining Room – a bit blurry, but filling the curio cabinet with what may or may not permanently reside in it has been one of my night time quiet projects.

Dining Room – filling the china hutch (in this case, crystal hutch) has been another night time quiet project. Although we don’t have too many pieces, John and I love the crystal artwork of Simon Pearce. A few stemwear pieces are in the hutch and our newest piece, a Revere Hurricane, sits as the table’s center piece. The rest of the table is padded as it acts as a staging area (as notably do the chairs, mainly ’cause I don’t want anyone sitting instead of working!)

Cook Top – notice the four cooking accessory sections? You thought I was kidding about sections, didn’t you? Also, I swear to myself that I will only put three magnet doohickeys on the fridge – a note pad, a timer (so I can find it, no timer section as yet), and a bottle opener because everyone knows, of course, that the side of the fridge *is* the bottle opener section.

Break time – Ranee’, if you’re reading, I’m still fond on this nice little bottle of wine. Thank you for the intro. And for the alert among you, surely you’ve observed the cutlery section.

And finally, if you’re still with me, the entry’s title, At Last, Etta James’ signature song. I’ve never heard Etta recite the opening lyrics before belting out those first words “at last”, but they make me think of how bewitched we are by Stella. We’re now in her company day and night…At Last.

Or as I like to call it, one more sleep.

I, who am not as spring a chicken as when last I wrote about not being a spring chicken, am not sure I can make it through the sleep. My cutie patootie has fizzled and my ankle is having a mid-life crisis or thinks it’s a tennis ball. All I know is it’s screaming at me to sit my big, fat patootie down. Uhhh, I’ll be so glad when I can. I’ll be so glad when we all can.

My Screaming Ankle

Needless to say, John, Sharon, and I have been especially hard at work the past two weeks readying Stella for our move as well as getting things boxed and packed up in our respective residences. Today we climbed to the precipice and tomorrow we’ll jump. At our ages we have to jump. Not a one of us could willingly get on our butts to slide down. Even if we fell and rolled onto our butts, we’d not be able to get up upon making it to the bottom.

My little sister, Peggy, her family, and a neighbor, Gene, helped Sharon move her furniture yesterday and today. They also helped us lay rugs and do various other things. We have much gratitude for their helping hands.

Our favorite sheets are washed. On Thursday and Friday last week, I gave a fresh press to other bed linens suitable for pressing. All sit in wait for the bed to be assembled tomorrow. Sharon’s freshly laundered bed linens are chomping at the bit to go onto her bed too. I hope we all sleep well our first night in Stella and all the nights thereafter. I’m pretty sure exhaustion is about to catch up with each of us and like I said, my ankle is screaming and so are my feet. I think John’s and my feet are screaming at each other and there’s no doubt our backs are having a ferocious shouting match. I believe the situation is worse than if my voices were talking to his voices.

Screaming Feet
From goldrattooth.com

The moving van arrives tomorrow morning and will return again on Tuesday. A semi could not maneuver Lou Lane so we have to be moved over a day and a half to two full days. Cable, phone, and internet will be connected tomorrow and the sound technician connects the sound systems. Our new family room furniture arrives on Tuesday or Wednesday — due to more rain in the forecast for Wednesday, I emailed a request to change delivery dates.

My husband, John, gets to meet Stella tomorrow. Wish some of MaryLisa’s ashes were here so she too could meet Stella. Many of her things are in the house; hopefully they will fit the bill.

Anyway, one more sleep.

Goodnight Moon.

I swear to God in the 17/18 months since John and I have been here in Virginia, his male stuff has been messing around with my female stuff. Totally uncalled for and out of line!

They’ve gotten pregnant (the stuff) and not just with a single birth, they’ve gotten pregnant over and over and over. They’ve been a reproduction factory. There’s been such a shindig going on ’round here that much of the stuff we threw away came all the way down here from Massachusetts and New Jersey to party. Sweet Mother of God, it’s all back!!!!

I’m not sure I can get done in time all the stuff we’re supposed to pack and move. You know, I’m not the spring chicken I was last September and October.

Image from instantdanetv

If not a week from last night, then a week from tonight Sharon, John, and I should be spending our first night in Stella. How exciting izzat? Take it from me, it’s pretty daggone exciting! And, you know what that means, we’re packing and toting those boxes again.

Oh the humanity!

The movers are scheduled for Monday and Tuesday morning, March 10 and 11. It would be nice if the movers can get it all done in a day, but because two trucks will be needed or one truck filled twice, the job likely will not get done in a day. Fitting since a year ago March 11, the first piece to the construction of Stella began — our driveway was started.

As was written in the “Pedigree” entry, we’ve been moving things since last Friday. We took yesterday off ’cause it snowed AGAIN – yes, I’m shouting. We put the day to good use, however. John did his taxes and I did mine. {faint}

Today I transferred the herbs and spices to Stella as well as the non-perishable food items. You’d be amazed how exciting it is to repeatedly open and close Stella’s spice cabinet. The spices seem to have taken on a sense of chic. I’m totally enthralled.

Along with the kitchen cabinets and drawers, the pantry is beginning to fill. I’m a touch nervous because I feel I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of setting up the kitchen and stocking the pantry – I worry, will there be enough space? There has to be ’cause the only enlargement opportunity would be to reduce the size of the master bedroom closet. I’ll push that stuff in that pantry and deadbolt the dang door if I have to!

On tomorrow’s docket is the moving of cookware, dishes, and glassware. I don’t know what or how much of it to leave behind. A coffee cup, two dishes, two bowls, two glasses, and some silverware and throw the rest in a box? It’s Wednesday already. I think I can eat out of a container with my fingers and can tilt my head over the sink and drink right from the faucet. Lucky for me, I don’t drink coffee. If John must have coffee, he will have to leave early enough to stop at WaWa. It’s Wednesday already!

There’s no moss growing here, especially thanks to the rabbit having died. Wascal Wabbit!