D'vorahDavida
Yetzirah

I took Ben and Sunny with me today to the cottage. They roamed all over the house smelling familiar smells on furniture, blankets, and boxes. At one point, I opened a box that contained some of their stuffed animals. They were VERY happy about that. Sunny settled in by the fire on a blanket I laid down nearby, but Ben was very uncertain about the entire operation and kept following me all over the place. We had to have a little talk. I stopped what I was doing and snuggled with him for a while. He hid his face under my arm. I told him everything was all right, and he shouldn't worry. I think he believed me then and went into the living room and went to sleep. After reading a comment from a friend about her grandmother's wood cook stove that was named "Alice", I was inspired to give my wood stove a name too. It seemed appropriate since we are going to be spending a lot of time together this winter.  I have named him "Bruce". Bruce and I had a bit of a rough start this morning, since it's been raining so much and some of my wood is kind of damp. We limped along for a couple of hours with reluctant flames. But at a certain point, everything started working well, and by the end of the day, I was almost ready to open a window!  Bruce knows his business, once he gets down to it. I mostly worked in the kitchen today. I haven't finished with it YET, so I kinda don't want to jinx it, but I THINK everything is going to fit. My sister in law came up for a few hours and helped me over some bumpy places. We consulted about placement of a few things in the back room, which we decided to call "the room of requirement" as it really is a catch all for whatever isn't going to fit elsewhere in the house. There's one object I haven't found in all my unpacking that I have begun to develop a rather desperate desire to clap eyes on. It is beginning to take on an alarming significance in my beleaguered psyche. I'm trying not to give into it. After all, I've had a major upheaval in my life, and this little object is small potatoes. Right? (Depends on how fragile your ego is right now. You look pretty brittle to me.) Gee thanks a lot. (I would recommend calling in the Duck, but I really don't want to deal with the little quacker myself. Perhaps Red will do the honors. )   I'd be happy to put in a call.  By the way , I love the way you are doing up that white chest.  It's very Shabby Chic. Thank you. It's coming right along. Though I made a strategic mistake with it the other day. I have been getting little oddments at the hardware store, you know, tacks, small nails, double sided tape, my very own phillips head screwdriver… and I needed a place to put all these things. Well, I opened up the right hand drawer of my white chest and put those things in there. But as soon as I did, I realized… oh dear, these are the things you put in your "junk drawer". I don't want this to be my junk drawer. But I didn't want them to be scattered all over the place when I needed a certain thing either. So as I have accumulated MORE oddments over the last few days, I put them in that drawer, but I say out loud, "This ISN'T my junk drawer." I haven't FOUND my junk drawer yet however, and the collection of things is growing alarmingly fast. I'm hoping tomorrow I will have an inspiration, and fix my junk drawer problem. AND I am trying to prepare myself for the possibility that the emotionally charged object may not be found at all. This thought fills me with dread…. We must be brave. We must brace ourselves. We must behave like and adult. The Precious may be lost. Dr. Rubber Duckie: You just made a classic Freudian slip Leibchen. Doctor! How did you get here so quickly?? Dr. RD: Ms. Hen has me on speed dial.