Remodeling and stuff.

Today the weather is clouded and chilly again, never a good thing to see when I first open my eyes and look out the windows and door, positioned at the foot-end of the bed. No! I don’t want to wake up yet, I immediately realize this and reach out for the alarm to reset it for another half hour ere taking Trin Trin in a headlock and dozing off once more with the monster boxer prudently held in a tight embrace.

There was a dream; less vivid than the ones I’ve described on a couple of occasions but still present enough to linger throughout the day. I remember being in some sort of facility, perhaps a compound, I’m not sure, but the colors were vibrant, ranging to all that nature holds in plants, blooming lushly in bright reds, purples and yellow flowers that were both domestic and foreign.

I was searching for something, my mind awhirl because I could not find it, no matter how hard I searched, or where I went. Added to that particular frustration I had to be dreadfully careful in the dream, since wherever I went I had to be cautious of snakes.

I hate snakes. Everything about them disgusts me for some reason, and that is even before I take in consideration that they’re dangerous creatures.

They were everywhere, in the dream. Their colors ranging to all of the plant-life in the place where I searched, along with some blond haired woman that I knew in the dream, but don’t in real life. They slithered around my feet, hid within colorful bushels of flowers, and would jump at me when I least expected them to.

However, even though they were far from hospitable, none actually bit me in the dream. It is the one thing I really like about such events in the subconscious mind, agility and speed that goes beyond human. In dreams I can fly, run endlessly without ever loosing my breath, and lift cars with hardly any effort at all. It’s good to be superman every once in a while, hah.

But, back to the dream: There were more people in there, men dressed in some sort of forest ranger uniforms, while they walked around carefully, searching for the snakes that had somehow escaped their prisons inside the facility… or at least that’s how I interpreted it.

Somewhere along the way I found a young Golden Retriever being cornered by several –what I think were– Cobras, and I snatched it from the ground before running off at top speed, towards a lush forested mountain top nearby with the blond woman coming in my pursuit.

Now this is not the type of dream that makes me wonder upon waking, if it is reality or fantasy. I know it full well the moment I open my eyes and get out of bed to let the dogs out. However, such dreams do make me jumpy… since I know from experience that snakes can sneak into our house at any given time, posing a serious threat for our beloved canines, and in some cases even us. It has happened before, and will undoubtedly happen again, so I am not in the best of moods as I hurry through the morning rituals and head for the house.

Dry laundry needs to be folded and a quick survey of the unresponsive washing machine shows that repairs will be futile since it is one of those new things, where there’s really nothing you CAN repair if the need arrives, because it is all automated.
It appears that the ON button is damaged somehow, meaning that there is something amiss with the circuit board, something that I cannot possibly do anything about.
Still, after some prodding I get the machine working, wondering how long it will run now that the ON button is so obviously broken.

I am most surprised to find out that I actually have an appetite this morning and consume a few slices of fresh bread with toppings when grandpa and big brother start hauling in the final batch of the groceries that were put by the gate ‘till morning.
Twenty bags of forty pound bags of dog food, will need to be hauled down to the car port at some time in the near future, but groceries, such as bottles, cans and the likes get carried inside for placement in the supply cabinet.

While putting everything in its rightful place, I take some extra time to reorganize shelves, and decide to skip today’s exercise, if for no other reason than that I’m still sore from the wheelbarrow and cement mixing stint, and feel too weary.

I manage to edit a good solid ten pages of the Chronicles throughout the next couple of hours, until dusk falls and it’s time to go to the village where we need to get two pieces of glass to replace broken shelves within the DVD cabinet, several lengths of wood for our future kitchen, and gas for the heaters.

While we’re exchanging seven empty tanks for the same amount of new ones, I congratulate myself with not doing my exercises that morning, because the darn tanks weigh quite a bit an do an excellent job of replacing lifting some weights.

Next comes the wood –or MDF in this case– since real wood doesn’t work well while building a kitchen, and after the wood seller has cut the two large, bed-sized boards into manageable strips, big brother and I carry them to the truck and tie the whole load up for transportation.

Once home, and after consuming the meal little sister has made for the day, I set to work without pause, knowing full well that if I don’t start right now, I won’t be able to drag my butt off the chair for the rest of the evening.

Measuring and sawing ensues. Since I’m doing the majority of the work in the living room, I try to use machines as little as possible, lest everything will be covered by sawdust. So, for the next four hours I’m sawing board after board, cutting a good six yards until my arm feels as if it’s going to fall off and big brother takes over.

Once all the measurements and cuts have been made, the time for putting together the last two drawers for the new kitchen is finally there. Drilling holes, screwing in screws and spurting some glue between sides and bottom, two more drawers make up the required nine of what is going to be a wonderfully huge kitchen island.

Up until now our kitchen functioned well enough, and is a joy to work in with the double sink area that stretches over half the wall, while an L shaped counter, curves outwards to allow for cooking and the likes. Ten years of intense use has taken its toll on cupboards and appliances alike, though, warranting a new kitchen for the entire family.

By now, after several weeks of preparation, and a necessary delay due to a lack of funds, it will be a joy when we finally start tearing the old counters down, and begin to put the new construction in. I can hardly wait until it’s time to place and connect the new five pan holding stove with the gigantic oven underneath. I’m thinking I’ll try out a new oven dish, or maybe homemade pizzas just for the momentous occasion.

Around midnight we’re finally done with the drawers and clean up the mess we’ve made, before exclaiming a sigh of relief and dropping down for half an hour of “Frasier” before I call it a night.
What with my arms aching, and my legs and heels feeling as if shards of glass are sticking in it, I pat myself on the back for my brilliant decision of not doing my exercises this morning, since that would have definitely been too much for today.

With Trin Trin’s sixth or seventh injection given, and her treatment drawing to a close, I gather up my dogs and head up to my cabin for a few more hours of relaxation on the Net before I call it a night.

It is a chilly and dark night when I make my way up the mountain, battling the northern wind that falls down right on top of the property and hope that it will chase the clouds away during the night.

The dogs, like myself no great fans of the cold, rush into the cabin the moment I open the door, tearing through the place as if they want to make sure that no intruders have trespassed on their territory.
None have, of course. The fences are high and the gate is locked with beside it, settled comfortably in his bungalow, grandpa resides with his trusted pitchfork nearby. Hah.

After I feed my pack, with them all devouring the dry kibble as if they’re starved, I brush my teeth and read another two chapters of the book I’ve been making my way through (at an embarrassingly slow pace, I’ll admit) for the last week or two.

Bommel growls threateningly from his favorite corner while he eats, keeping a wary –partially blind– eye on Knight II, who enjoys nothing more than stealing the old Bobtail’s meal from under his nose.

Chaos, the Basset Hound lazily cruises through the rooms, picking up spills like a proper vacuum cleaner, while occasionally raising his head and wagging his tail at me in full appreciation of the kibble that he enjoys so much.

All in all, it is an average evening for when I retire to my cabin and prepare for the next day by planning what needs to be done.

Though plans have a tendency of changing, I do like to have some sort of map to follow during the course of any given day, and with that in mind I sum up the possible tasks that I can take upon myself by the time a new day arrives, before turning in at long last.

Seize the day… or at least parts of it. Hah.