friday fictioneers: one artist’s rendering…

Remodeling spaces is a form of art.

Could it be that Picasso dabbled in fixer-uppers before painting anatomically grotesque women?

An artist begins with a blank canvas. So it is when I behold the before…imagining in my mind’s eye what will come after.

While I do not strike the carpenter’s hammer or turn the plumber’s screwdriver, mine is the creative vision.

The inspiration. The design. The materials. The textures. The colors.

My aesthetics power the coalescence of the parts.

And when it comes to details…I’m the devil.

Never for symmetry, instead by gut instinct.

If it feels rightIT’S MAGIC!


…master bedroom…this artist’s vision come true…


…daughter’s bedroom…also this artist’s rendering…


for more great 100 word stories on the photo prompt.)








weekly photo challenge: through

A view of my front yard through the window of my newly renovated master bedroom. I’m inclined to recycle vintage pieces wherever I can. Have you any idea where this architectural piece may have “lived” prior to where it’s now been incorporated? Look for a photo showing more of the piece in an upcoming post with pictures of my remodel.

…see if you’re right then…

hugmamma.    😉                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

( note: this challenge occurred in mid-march…i guess i’m a little behind the times…no matter…it still works!)

are we done yet???

carpet store kitty

carpet store kitty (Photo credit: Kate Raynes-Goldie)

The carpet installers are vacuuming up the remnants of their work as I type. Finally! The last “t” is being crossed, and the final “i” dotted, on the master bed/bath remodel we began almost 2-1/2 months ago.

If I never see another contractor or subcontractor, it will be too soon. Having them in my space 24/7 is totally discombobulating. Ignoring their presence is impossible as their companion noises drone on and on and on. Whether they’re sawing wood, hammering nails, drilling holes, laying tile or carpet, tramping up and down the stairs, slamming doors, or laughing and chatting among themselves, they are inside my head…literally!

My Fair Lady (film)

My Fair Lady (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

And now the end is in sight!!!

Hooray for the workers, me, my pets, and yes, even my house! If it could speak I’m certain it would complain loudly, what with all the pulling, tugging, denuding and rearranging it has had to endure. My house and I will jump for joy when the front door finally slams shut on these men’s backsides.

 In the famous words of Eliza Doolittle‘s Zvengali, Professor Henry Higgins, “Shall we dance?” 

A friend suggested I break open the champagne when all’s said and done.

Where’s the corkscrew? Let me at that wine rack! I’m pulling an all-nighter! Hip-hip-hooray!!!

And the sun’s out!!! Double hip-hip-hippety-hoppety-hooray!!!

Eliza Doolittle (EP)

Eliza Doolittle (EP) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

…da ya think i’m happy?…ya betcha!…

………hugmamma.  🙂

if thoughts could kill…

The book cover.

The book cover. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the midst of all this hoopla, our dog and 3 cats are prepared to take us all out. And I don’t mean…to dinner. Truthfully though they’ve had the patience of Job. You know, the guy from the Bible who was slammed with more than his fair share of trials and tribulations.

Ours are indoor pets. So having their territory trampled upon by total strangers does not sit well with them. Making matters worse is the fact that they are confined while the men work. Mixing construction workers with 3 cats and a dog would make for total chaos. As mediator, I would be the one pulling my hair out by its white roots. Not a pretty sight!

Corraling the menagerie into their respective safe havens runs like clockwork now. Initially the prospect of managing our pets and their needs was overwhelming. The 3 cats have different dietary needs because of issues ranging from pre-diabetes, kidney failure, and a slow colon. Then there’s our dog who needs her own space. She gets along just fine with the kitties when we’re watching. I’d hate to find out how she really feels about them, if they cohabited without supervision.

I had originally placed our prediabetic cat into the large crate with 3 shelves that sits in the laundry room. Locking him in safely with food, water and a litter box, I then confidently sheltered our dog in the laundry room as well. They were together, but not. Returning to check on the roommates later on the second or third day, both greeted me at the door. Was it my imagination, or were they wearing Cheshire grins? 

I was shocked! Surprised? No.

Left to his own devices our bottomless-pit cat will spend the day tackling any challenge set before him. I have to credit him for patiently unhooking the latch and letting himself out of the crate. What must our dog have thought as she watched in silence? Of course she wouldn’t squeal on her fellow, four-footed friend. After all wasn’t I the enemy for shutting them out of their normal stomping grounds? Had they continued to board together, clever feline might have taught puzzled dog a thing or two.

Having learned my lesson I now house the cat with a slow colon, and a pacific personality, in the crate, and our nimble paws kitty in the downstairs bathroom. Switching them out has proven successful. Peace reigns once again. Except, of course…for the buzz-sawing, hammering, sprinting up and downstairs, door-slamming…aaahhh…

…there’s no place like home…

………hugmamma.  🙂  

…not always in control…but that’s life…

Getting Older 1981–1991

Getting Older 1981–1991 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Getting older seems to bring with it a keener awareness of life’s mishaps. Or is it just my imagination? The upside is that it doesn’t matter as much as it did when I was a young know-it-all, unwilling to give an inch because youthfulness is akin to immortality, which is akin to godliness. Try telling a teenager what to do, and you’ll see what I mean.

Confrontations aren’t “my cup of tea.” They give me heart palpitations, and words of rebuttal literally stick in my throat. In attempting off-the-cuff comebacks, I’ve swallowed a few words. Words that never made it from the pit of my stomach…to my lips…to the ears of my antagonist.

With age and experience comes the realization that there are those whose opinions I will never alter, come hell or high water. But that’s okay. I don’t need for everyone to approve of my viewpoint. They have theirs; I have mine.

Construction is an arena in which women walk a slippery slope. More often than not we are the ones dealing with the men enlisted to build or remodel our homes. We’re at their mercy, even though we employ them to do as we would like. Having managed 2 remodels thus far I’m beginning to understand what it is I’m doing. I’ve gotten an education from the men whose company I keep 24/7. A reluctant relationship from which I yearn to be extricated…sooner rather than later.

Logo for Hiccups (TV series).

Logo for Hiccups (TV series). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

No remodel is without its hiccups. I had my first case of the “hiccups” the other day. My contractor informed me that the closet bifold doors were shorter in height than the opening he’d cut in which to install them. It seems the store’s rep had written out the dimensions in a way that led to the mistake. Long story short, my conversation with the store’s manager ended in a stalemate. We both understood each other’s dilemma but were at a standstill as to how the situation should be resolved.

The store gave me 2 options. Keep the doors and pay my contractor more money to make things right, or switch out the doors for the correct ones, buy more paint for them and delay completion of the remodel by 2 or more weeks. Faith in my contractor, and the desire to exchange the current double bed on which my husband and I now sleep for our own king bed, convinced me to move forward without any delay.

Master Suite - King Size Bed with Jungle View

To my surprise the store manager offered another solution. He’d try to get some money back from the manufacturer for their part in the mistake. It seems they were fractionally off in the height of their doors which compounded the error. I’m awaiting a final call to inform me of recompense for the inconvenience and added expense involved in correcting the problem.

At this juncture I’ve decided what is, is. If nothing comes of this confrontation I’ll have done what I could. As I indicated to the store manager, this experience will color my opinion going forward. I won’t be as quick to recommend his business as I had been.

Customers are Ignoring You

Customers are Ignoring You (Photo credit: ronploof)

I’m all for supporting small businesses, especially in the current economy. But given the times, great service is an asset that helps grow customers. A favorite east coat farmer’s market said it best. “Rule #1 – The customer is always right. Rule #2 – When in doubt, always refer to Rule #1.”

Not everyone subscribes to this belief. But we always have the option of going elsewhere, or altering our choices to suit the situation. It’s our life…our decision. What matters in the end is not to stress

"No worries" text, on the cover of a spare tire on the back of an automobile in Australia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

…over what’s beyond our control… 

Cows at Reclain. No worries in the world!

Cows at Reclain. No worries in the world! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

………hugmamma.  🙂