Stitchpop

I woke up this past Sunday with a respectable number of household chores to accomplish, such as:

Swiffer kitchen floor and wood floors in living room, hallway, and den.

Clean bathrooms.

Unpack various boxes of miscellaneous stuff.

etc.

Instead, I found myself spending hours on my hands and knees in the living room scrubbing and cursing at what appeared to be many years' worth of sticky shoe filth.

It began innocently enough, with a quick swiffering. The more I swiffed, the stickier the floor seemed to get. So I tested a corner of the floor with some Old English (which made me feel very much like a sexy young maid cleaning the floor of some rich elderly gentleman named Chesterfield who leered at me from the hallway while puffing lasciviously at his pipe.). I soon discovered that the mellow dusky brown of the wood was NOT in fact the wood's actual color. I scolded Chesterfield for smoking in the house and spend the rest of the afternoon unleashing a brilliant, gleaming, golden shine from the floorboards.

I'm thankful that we have no furniture in our living room yet. As it is, I not only have unhindered access to obsessive polishing stints, but also a perpetual blank slate of a room on which to project various Surprise by Design and Trading Spaces fantasies. (I believe that Fluid Pudding and I are the perfect candidates for Trading Spaces. New home owners, recent babies, tight mates living within scant miles of each other? Make my day.)

Did you ever move into a new house as a young kid and wander through the empty rooms planning what you would do with each one? I remember being bitterly disappointed when my parents cluttered my lovely mirrored dress-up room (dining room) with tables and chairs. This time I don't have to give it up right away. There are so many things you can do with a living room that grown-ups never consider.

Library. (Credit to husband for the idea) We'll line the walls with tall bookcases and dark leather chairs. I have to admit, the only downside I see here is that bookcases and leather furnitures is 'spensive.

Dance studio. I'd just need to install a bar (or is it barre? )and a wall-sized mirror (mirrorre?)… well, and also hope that with anorexia comes coordination and grace.

Art gallery. Perhaps we'll set up exhibit tables and hang paintings with little white plaques that tell you the name of the piece and the artist and the medium. During times of slow production, I'll invite all of my hypothetical artist friends to have showings. And charge admission.

Musical auditorium. Me. A piano. And a microphone. Live! Oh, and of course we'd have to build a stage and install stadium seating. I don't see a problem with that.