Make It Look BIG!

"Make it look big," she says.

She, someone I had never met before today, was making suggestions on preparing my home to go on the market.  She looked around my living room and pointed to the big rubber plant I have grown over the last eleven years and told me it had to go. Takes up too much space she told me. You want your rooms to look BIG so potential buyers can envision their furniture having plenty of room to fit in she says.

My recliner where I sit to talk to my son every Sunday evening - out. The chair where I sit to watch TV in the hearth room - out - or at least moved to a different spot that makes it impossible to see the TV. The pretty shells, candlesticks, and philodendron I have around the bath tub - out, out, out. Declutter the bookshelves, unstock the pantry shelves, and reduce the number of pots and pans, dinner plates and drinking glasses. (Really? Everyone doesn't collect the plastic cups at the end of every athletic event like we do?)  The cabinets need to look spacious, the walls should look fairly empty (no personal pictures for heavens sake!), and the landscape pristine, even on a winter's day.

Selling a large home to downsize to a small apartment is a tough gig, even if I am doing it by choice. Making my house look bigger entails throwing away high school scrapbooks, yearbooks, and negatives from hundreds of pictures I can never re-take. It means tossing that little Bentwood rocker that is broken down but was part of my son's nursery. It also means my gardening friends are going to love me when they are able to pry my fingers away from my potting bench in the garage.

Yes, my house will look bigger but it also means I can't say "Go Big or Go Home".  Going big means I probably won't have this home.

My Valentine Stand-In

 

Today I celebrated Valentine's Day with my Valentine Stand-In.  S. is a good friend of both myself and my husband and I adore his wife, L.  I requested that S be my stand-in today since my regularly scheduled Valentine is on another business trip. He graciously agreed.

We have known S & L ever since we moved to College Town. When we all attended a get-together to form a dinner club S & L knew they were in the right place when Mr. Y lamented his wish that this not be a high fluten' gourmet club with finger food but a gathering where he was going to be fed good ol' meat and potatoes. We have traveled on week-long vacations with S&L and always come home with memories of great times, wonderful food, and shared belly laughs.

S is an organizer. Last year Mr. Y decided it would be FUN to bicycle 120 miles over three mountain passes in one day. S had custom t-shirts made, designed signs, and organized our tifosi (fancy word for groupies) for the big day. Mr Y was cow belled, whooped at, and encouraged to complete a ride that defeated him the year before. It was a fantastic day in large part to S's efforts.

S. is second from the left

Shortly after that trip S & L flew to Italy for what was suppose to be a dream vacation. On the first morning S stood atop a terraced wall to take sunrise pictures, lost his footing, fell and altered his life course forever. S broke his back which required emergency surgery. He has gone from no mobility to a wheelchair to crutches and is now down to one crutch. It has been an amazing progression to watch. He is an inspiration to everyone around him. Rehab requires traveling a total of two hours, five days a week which requires many volunteers.

I signed up for the Valentine's Day drive. It is a pleasure to spend time with S. He is always positive and caring. He had home made chocolate candies waiting when I arrived at the door for the morning drive and gave me the rose he was given in rehab for the drive home. It looked perfect plunked into my Starbucks mug. It's really nice to have a Valentine's Day Stand-In.

PS Okay, kudos to Mr Y. He gave me some lovely smelling perfume gifts before he left on his trip yesterday. Considering he has no sense of smell and derives no aromatic benefits I especially love him for that.

A Little Silliness

It's Coming Home Day!

Mr. Y travels almost every week on business. Dallas, Little Rock, Chicago, Minneapolis, and occasionally multiple cities in one trip. Sometimes he flies out on Monday sometimes Tuesday but every week he is a guest of Marriott or Hilton (where would we be without our Reward Points?) for at least for a couple of days while he transacts business for the telecommunicatins company he works for.

He has packing and unpacking his one airline approved carry-on down to a fine art. (Yes, I am one of THOSE lucky ladies. He packs and unpacks his own bag!) The fluids are neatly contained in a clear bag he can easily put through security, his dress shirts are on hangers ready to hang in his hotel shower to steam the wrinkles out, and his toilet kit re-stocked.  He is precise in his desire to leave the house exactly 2 hours before his departure and knows exactly where he wants to park at the airport for the quickest shuttle trips.


Once the trip starts he is courteous in using an app that tells me where he is "Mr Y has checked in @ Kansas City International Airport" , "Mr Y.  checked in @ Chicago Midway Airport", Mr Y checked into Starbucks" Mr. Y checked in @ Wildberry Cafe, Mr Y. checked into Chicago Marriott Northwest. He is renting cars, eating airport/hotel/bar food, navigating unfamiliar streets, sleeping in cold ("Can't ever get the thermostat right in those places.") rooms, and putting up with cranky customer service/airline security/fellow passengers.


But today is Coming Home Day. He always reminds me of this in an early morning text. Tonight he gets to sleep in his own bed, wear his old sweats, catch up on DVR'd shows we both like to watch but don't want to watch unless we're together and, if he is lucky, eat a home cooked meal.


(Ding) There he is. "Mr Y. checked in @ Hertz." That means he is at the Chicago Airport and will be in the air soon. We like Coming Home Day.

You'll Never Walk Alone

Thank goodness for Ian (Rankin), Tina (Fey), Philippa (Gregory), and Jeffrey (Deaver). And it never hurts to throw in Adele, Lady Antebellum, The Bee Gees, and some Mumford and Sons. If it were not for them I might not even head out the door for my (semi) daily walks. Combine them with my silky voiced GPS reminder on how far, how fast, and how long I've walked and I find I have all the company I need for these lovely spring day, er winter day, strolling sessions. (It's much more fun to go on a stroll then a fitness walk don't you think?)

" 3 (pause) 2 (pause) 1 (pause) Go!" That's what my GPS says in a gentle, encouraging tone as I hit the Start Track button. Now there is no pausing to tie my shoelaces, take a drink of water, or lock the door. The timer is ticking, the miles are tracking, and the speed is being calculated from a satellite far above me.  She whispers in my ear every 10  minutes giving me the updates. "20 minutes completed. You have covered 1.21 miles. Your average speed is 3 point 6 miles per hour". Amazing how she encourages me to pick up the speed to beat yesterday's walk.

In between coaching I listen to audio books. I am a real sucker for an English accent so Philippa Gregory's books lull me into wanting to walk all day. Ian Rankin's Inspector Rebus is always in some sort of trouble and I am occupied trying to remember which characters are bad guys and which are good, while enjoying the narrators lovely Scottish Brough. Tina Fey makes my step lighter with her humor, although her "accent" is American Midwest, and I find myself walking faster when Jeffrey Deaver's James Bond is in a pickle. One of my favorite books to listen to was The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Think Sean Connery in your ear for 3 miles. Very nice.

When all else fails there's music. Try walking slow to "Staying Alive". No way is that possible. Today Adele was trying to "Set Fire to the Rain" (whatever that means) and I found myself swinging my arms to get my heart rate up.

Thank goodness I don't have a walking partner that expects me to keep up a conversation. I have all the company I need right in my ear buds.