We moved into this house in the winter of 2007. We bought it in the spring of 2008 right before the big real estate crash so we never got to cash in on the sweet tax incentives. Still a little bitter about that, but I ramble... So, since the spring of 2008 when the house became "mine" my proverbial wings started to come forth and want to fly. By flying I mean creativity, an air of excitement, and sometimes charging forth blindly with no plan. That has been my mental transformation. The physical transformation is the house. It houses all my experiments and ideas. It doesn't question me. It just finds a corner to put my latest supplies. It makes me work hard for what I want...stupid rock infested ground. And I am happy for it because it's my safe haven away from the world.
Did you know I own a piece of art? Well, I do. I finally put it up in my
Here's something I did because I'm cheap. I bought this unfinished wood rod for $.99, attached a loop of twine to both ends of a shelf, slid rolls of ribbon through and slipped the rod through the pieces of twine. Easy fix to ribbon everywhere. I like crafting but I cannot do it in chaos.
On my way home from the store I somehow ended up at a yard sale where I found these two items for a total of $2.50. I attached a board to the studs in the wall and then mounted the rack onto it. There are actually rows in it that fit mason size jars. This gets my buttons and what nots out of the way. The other, super out-of-date coat rack I hung on its' side for now and those pegs are just the right size to put ribbon rolls on or hang other odds and ends.
You might think this is a piece of art and you might be right and wrong. I think it does have an artistic concept but it is actually a mason bee house. It was a gift that I have not yet put up. Apparently the little holes are for mason bees which are not supposed to sting you but will help with your garden. I have a feeling mine will attract Africanized honey bees.
Or I can do this with it...
The last part of my made up word is tarium. As in sanitarium. For you young ones out there, a sanitarium was where they put the crazy people before it was politically incorrect to lock up the weirdos and pervs of society. Now they are just medicated and allowed to run amok and I'm pretty sure they keep ending up as my neighbors.
For my word transfortarium it's kind of like this sunflower. Sometimes I look up at it and think, "this is crazy, it's out of control." But it, too, is just growing. Spreading its' proverbial wings. Physically we water and nuture it, waiting for the bloom. Just like my own transformation.