Mess

As I type, the house is a mess. Not just any mess, mind you... it's the mess that comes with remodeling. This time it's the upstairs bathroom that is getting the facelift (and body-lift as well). New shower/tub. New sink and vanity. New commode. New walls. I'm not sure what else, but it'll look completely different. Right now it just looks completely trashed.

We've done a lot of remodeling since we moved here about nine years ago. The house wasn't really what we wanted, but for the price we couldn't refuse. So now we're trying to make it in our own image. But after remodels on the downstairs bath, the hall, the kitchen, the dining room and the upstairs bedrooms, we're kind of used to the smell of paint and sawdust. Still, the place is a mess. A tan canvas tarp is covering the route from the front door to the soon-to-be-new bathroom. On our front porch sits a toilet. Yes, a powder blue commode. Right beside it is the old tub, sitting on a stack of cracked and slightly mildewed pieces of wall board. The construction guys will be hauling it all away. Soon. I hope.

Sometimes I feel like my life is like this house. Piles of trash here and there, and I've gotten used to it all. Maybe you've felt that way too. It's amazing how much of a mess we tolerate. I've been in houses where the residents think nothing of leaving last week's trash lying on the floor or in an unused chair. Once the initial shock wears off, it just seems to make sense to leave it there. After all, cleaning up would require some work and a bit of effort. And cleaning up a life is something we just don't have the strength to do. Which is why from time to time, I have to call in the Almighty with a powerwasher.

I wish the house could be back to normal, but for now, we live in a mess. We have no shower for the time being, so don't get too close. And don't use the powder blue fixture on the front porch.