Back in Florida.

This is my third whole day.
Saturday was my first, which we ran around going places and to a park.
On Sunday, we went to Wagon Wheel, visited the Awesome Jean, and went to another park.

I’m going to go to a lot of parks while I’m here and I’m a-okay with that.  I’ve grown fond of them, despite the really tall weeds.   The boy calls them palm trees, but I know what they really are —  tall and bendy weeds.  You’d have to cut three dozen of them to get decent wood for the winter.

Much like what Ron said – I’m putting my house in order.   Rather, I’m trying to put my house – this house – in order.  Physically.

Fast forward to later in the evening.

Seven or so bags of yard trash are awaiting disposal at the side of the house.
There’s a huge pot of chili warming on the stove.
Laundry – done.
Floors – swept and mopped.
Cat – fed
Ceiling fans – cleaned.
Tea – made.
The kitchen sink, which has leaked since May – fixed.
All of the pots and pans have been washed.    The boy hadn’t used some of the pans in so long that dust or something was getting on them.
–  Bathroom tiles  – scrubbed.
Kitty water fountain clean and working.

This is how I get my house in order.

It’s not perfect.   Not by a long shot.  Martha Steward does not live here.
But, it’s lived in.   It’s, I hope, comfortable.
I like to think that it’s welcoming.

Everything has a purpose, even if I’m not too sure how or even what it is.

I’m feeling fairly tired.
My hands are dried out from the cleaning chemicals.  They kind of feel like they would in Indiana.  No worries.   I have some good lotion.

My first instinct today was to go out.  Walk the half an hour to gym, do my thing, walk half an hour back.  But, I don’t know, so I stayed in.

See, I don’t know if this is one of the other girls coming in –  Maybe the one that wants to be the perfect partner.   Maybe it’s just my INTX.    Maybe it’s childhood.

Out of everything, I think that’s it.
I spent a lot of my pre-teenage and teenage years cleaning rentals.   Scrubbing refrigerators and unknown black lumps out of stoves.    Battling fleas, rats, and trash by the dumpster full.

Those houses were nasty – positively putrid in some cases.   But, when I got done, they smelled like bleach without a roach or rat to be found.

I just don’t want to ever ever ever live in that type of condition.  Not even a little bit.

It’s cold in the house.
Geez.  Not Indiana cold, but cold.

Tomorrow –  I’m waiting all day on some guy to come out and fix the air handler.   –  That’s furnace to us northerners. It sounds like an airplane when it kicks on.   Guessing something just isn’t tightened down right.

Wednesday, maybe I’ll go back to my usual scheduled programming.

Everything is just strange here.
Good strange. Bad strange.   But, I guess this is forward.
I’m all for pushing my limits.   Well, this is a push.