Dig Dug

I felt a huge sense of accomplishment telling my sister that I'd turned a nearly unusable room into my new bedroom.  Somehow the incredulity of other people at the things I do makes me feel fantastic.  I just got back from California.  I haven't really had relatives in my house in about a year and a half, which is kind of funny since I've gone to see all of them.

Now that I'm back here I'm trying to get back to the basement thing and working on that part I had pictured here.  I spent about 20 minutes on it just now and here are some things I found:

• a green coated-wire rack or trellis of some sort, disassembled
• brass lampshade, seemingly for no lamp I own
• green wooden house from an old Monopoly game
• plastic storage drawers filled with actual keepsakes, as wells as rags and vintage hankies
• that fucking bag of papers I referred to in the blog post to which I just linked above.

Part of the reason I'm upset over them is that I'm afraid to look and see what a mess I might have made of Dylan's and my 2011 taxes.  So, they are still in that room being punished.  I can't bring myself to even handle them.

On a lighter note I'm starting to look through the keepsake bits and see what there is.

The days are getting longer, and the SAD stuff is waning, but I've had some mild persistent anxiety for a few days now.  I have a lot on my mind, more to come on that.  I loved being away but I'm glad I have so much to occupy me here.

I finished two books while I was away, The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett and A State of Heat by Sheilah Graham.  I didn't realize I was an Alan Bennett fan until I found this book, he wrote the play The History Boys and another great book that my mother-in-law gave me years ago, The Clothes They Stood Up In.  I wouldn't even have seen the book I just read except that it was on a counter in the library, in a display of small books that tend to get lost in the shelves.  It was standing next to a book illustrated by Tom Neely.