Staredown

Do you ever have to sit with something?  An idea, a problem, a memory, a person.

I'm haing to sit with my IKEA* lion.  Henrik.  The decision of whether to take him with me when I move is what's up in the air.  He has sat atop the armoire in the bedroom since I got him.  The armoire might not even fit in Tiny House.

"Armoire" is one of those hard-to-say words for me.  "Rural" I can usually manage.  "Rural juror" is a bit trickier.^

The porch is now empty of things that won't be in "my" room.  I took the cat tower apart, which was surprisingly difficult.  The treadmill eventually gave in after hammers and allen wrenches and rust removal oil and a crowbar.  I'm as proud of taking that treadmill apart as anything I've done in a while.

Now, I didn't say the porch was clean, only that it's empty.  On the left there, you can see the power drill I had to buy myself.  Yes, it's pink, but that isn't why I bought it.  I bought it because it was the cheapest one.  Which says that tool manufacturers still buy into stereotypes, and/or nobody wants to own a pink tool set because of, you know, stereotypes.  I'm excited about all this, but really hope I move out not too long after it's all done.

I want to buy a runner rug and a chair.  The chair will probably determine where everything else goes.  I've already built a plant stand you can't see in a corner.  There's a trip to Lowe's in my future for more potting soil.

*Not yelling --- that's how they spell it.

^IYKYK