work in progress

Imagine that! The painter finally has finished painting his own house. I was seriously beginning to wonder. I kid you not, every time Randy had time set aside to paint it would rain. I feel like it has never ever rained so much. Ever. Not since the flood. The one with the ark and the rainbow. We've had almost that much rain since April. That is when Randy was going to start and finish our house.

It reminds me of this book Abe and I just read. The Doll People. I loved it. We talked about if we could live in our house for a 100 years and never leave (like the doll house family). I could. Especially now. The introvert inside me has hit an introvert brick wall. I'll snap out of it. I always do.

Tomorrow we are getting a new bookstore and coffee shop! Today was moving day. Randy and Abe and I went to check it out tonight. Randy has spent so many hours there painting it isn't like we were just walking in off the street to snoop(oh! I can justify). Maybe they had found a nail hole he missed filling or something. In the end I wanted to stay and help. They didn't ask me and really why would they? It just looked like fun. Fun work. Is there such a thing? While I was snooping I found a sign. It stopped me dead in my tracks. A sign for me and this old house. I need to hang it, potentially on my forehead, to remind me not to have a pity party for myself. To stop feeling so down and out about everything. About nothing.

It said, "It's A Wonderful Life."

It is indeed.