I’m up in the middle of the night rearranging furniture so I figure I might as well pause and write a post about it. The interweb needs to know these things.

I was laying in bed listening to Dan breath and wondering how he can sleep so peacefully when my cookbooks have no home to speak of. I shift them from cupboard to cupboard forever dreaming that they will someday have a place to call home, a place in the sun, far from the madding cupboards.

Recently, I’ve come to the conclusion that I can live in this house forever and would kind of like to live in this house forever though it’s not as big as I always thought I needed. It’s big enough and I’d like to live a simple enough life that I could find a way to keep all my junk in the space I have or get rid of it. Oh, do I have a lot of junk. And I feel like I’m always getting rid of stuff.

So I shift things from room to room.

Tonight I borrowed a bookshelf from the office and carried it downstairs to the dining room without waking anyone. I filled it with my cookbook friends who breathed a sigh of relief and then I moved the table and chairs every which way to see how they looked best and if it was possible to fit them in now and still walk between them and the wall without first undergoing gastric bypass or chopping off my butt. I think I’ve found a way.

But one of my dining room chairs is antique white and all the rest are stained oak and I feel they must match but I want to make do with what I have so maybe I’ll paint all the rest of them and the table antique white to match the one lone wolf chair. Maybe Antique Mommy can help me out.

And I want to weave baskets out of the tall weeds in my yard… and maybe a muumuu. But it’s too dark to harvest. And I want to dig up the garden plot to plant the Aspens and Birch trees I bought last week. But I’m afraid of finding more moles. And I want to fill every unused container in my house with dirt and plant things in them. But I don’t have any dirt. And my little slave laborers are sleeping. And I want to use the wood from the fallen-down section of fences to make extra planters. After I pressure wash them. And let them dry for a few months. And I’d like to fold some laundry. But that is not fun.

You know what is fun? Blogging. And swimming in chocolate. With your mouth open.

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12 Responses to Insomnia

  1. FarmWife says:

    Fear not, you are not the only one awake right now worried about the state of your cabinets & flower beds. But I cannot move furniture as it will awaken my entire household. Instead I’m descaling the humidifier, making a pot of decaf, and defrosting the cranberry pomegranet juice for breakfast. Hurrah!

  2. Carrie says:

    I wondered why you were sending SMB emails at 2 AM. Sounds like it was a productive insomnia-filled night, at least!

  3. Shalee says:

    Oh, you and I are sisters of a different kind. We’re the keepers of the nights. My dilemma is that our house is now on the market and we have everything done. My night forays are more of a rambling sort. And I just can’t get myself in a book. I know! Me not reading!

    Fear not, I know this will pass much quicker than I think it will. Until then, I need to keep myself away from ebay. I’m down a hundred after last night… but at least I’ll have some cute clothes that will take up more space in our closet… Hey, now I’ve just thought of something else I can do. I’ll get to cleaning out even more of that closet space to make room.

  4. grammyelin says:

    I hate the middle of the night, awake…alone…restless…driven to do things I don’t particularly want to do. I hope you can keep awake and active all day and fall into a well-deserved sleep tonight. Love you!

  5. Liz says:

    Is the lone antique white chair dispensable? Meaning do you have to have it at every meal? Maybe you could just cover it with some cute chair cover or a throw rug and put it in a corner. And put stray cookbooks on it like a bookshelf. I don’t know. I can see it in my head, but I don’t know if I’m saying it right.

    And hoo boy, my dreams of late have been insane, so I kind of envy your insomnia.

  6. mother of the wild boys says:

    Last night could’ve been that way for me…I laid there forever thinking about getting up, but with all three of the Wild Boys sick right now, I knew I needed the sleep.

    It’s funny how you can get do much done when you’re supposed to be doing something else, eh? My prob lately has been a nagging need to organize my abode instead of doing my college homework..arg!

  7. Proud Daughter of Eve says:

    Apparently you’ve found a trap-door into the back of my head. I’m always poking at (and being poked by!) my ideas and plans for the house too.

  8. Janssen says:

    Well, invite me over when you get your chocolate swimming pool. Because THAT would be worth a plane flight to Seattle for.

  9. Darlin’, we need to get you some Ambien, QUICK.

  10. Caryn says:

    I envy you for putting your insomnia to good use. I usually just lie there in bed, staring up at the darkened ceiling, stewing over past hurts or thinking about what I *should* be doing and haven’t done yet. Yes, insomnia is not a pleasant thing for me, and is in no way productive.

  11. nan says:

    “There was an old sailor my grandfather knew,
    Who had so many things that he wanted to do,
    That whenever he thought it was time to begin,
    He couldn’t because of the state he was in!”

    (A. A. Milne)

    I sleep like a log, unless I am sorely vexed at my spouse. Then, I lie awake plotting revenge.

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