The Office Closet

I promised you pictures of the latest round of remodeling work. We had so much luck with easyclosets.com the first time around, we decided to put another one in here. I should have taken an image of the closet filled, because this single shelf with all hanging is possibly the worst use of closet space in the history of closets. That and it was installed poorly and ultimately crappy. However, this is the before image that I have.


There are several steps missing here. This is due mostly to the fact that I wanted to get things accomplished, so stopping to take images of the process didn't fit into the schedule. I had very little time to demo, repair, prime, and paint. All of that happened before JQ and JB came down to visit. When they were here, the closet was painted, but it was only walls. About a week later, the easy closet arrived and I started to install it.

The system is nice because it comes with a track that all of the vertical shelving hangs on. These images show the verticals in place with some of the cam shelving starting to be installed.



Once the verticals are in place, you lock in some cam shelves (which can really be put wherever you like, beautiful design) and then arrange as you see fit.


I had to move some of the shelves once I started to actually put equipment and other pieces in here because the records were too high to fit the way I had arranged the shelves. SPF is irritated (in a cute way) because they don't run across the whole line, just the one shelf is off the path. He says that he is going to change it someday. I encourage it. We are both crazy.

This is a fairly briskly thrown together composite shot of how the closet functions now. Before the closet was installed, most of this stuff was strewn about the office floor. This is all of my equipment for my business. This is a much, much better use of space and soooo functional that I will be posting the next closet project as soon as we can save up enough money for the job.

The one empty shelf was supposed to be for SPF's linoleum printing supplies. It now houses another three cameras. I have a problem.

Rampage

I have been on a rampage the last two days. I am not certain if I am manic depressive (oh boy howdy is there some evidence to support that theory) or if I really just need to be active and engaged to be happy. Yesterday I demolished a closet (images to follow), fought for my rights (I almost spelled that "writes", ironically) regarding an article that I wrote and the subject edited, repaired the drywall where I had made new dents during the demo (which was hilarious fun, I should have taken more pictures to show the bizarre, in-between stage where the shelf was stuck in place but there were no more nails holding it to the wall...kind of a puzzler), pruned my whole garden, assembled two metal shelving units, reorganized the garage, went shopping for ladybugs (to eat the aphids that are in turn eating my roses), dinner, and cat litter, changed the cat litter, folded the previously washed laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and cooked half of dinner. It was a thoroughly bizarre amount of work considering that I am usually sitting at this very computer on Facebook or checking email or doing anything that is not manual labor that will make our lives better. Making our lives better makes me happier.

So, today I have primed and painted the previously demoed and repaired closet, painted the third bathroom, started to do the laundry from this last week, wrote a page and a half of questions for a new article, made myself lunch, and am about to start the second coat of paint for the closet and bathroom. The only reason that I am blogging is because I can't apply the second coat for another thirty minutes. Stupid dry times.

Why the sudden rampage of activity? My sister and brother in law are coming down this weekend and I want the house to be nice for them. Nice meaning I want them to have a bathroom of their own, a dining room table to eat at (which is as of this moment still the over filled "craft" table), a clean house (haven't started that process yet), and a gourmet menu of tantilizing treats. The latter would be because my b-i-l is a super magnificent chef and I don't want to throw some frozen dinners or pot pies into the oven when he stops by. At the moment, he knows that I can cook desert and is fairly certain that I will be making cakes and pies for every meal. Until he voiced this concern, that is exactly what was going to happen. Now I feel as though I need to learn how to cook real food. We usually grill real food, but my sister doesn't eat beef, so I need to come up with something other than filets on the barbie. How does a barbeque chicken cheese cake sound?

Spring!

I am certainly a spring baby. And not just because I was born in spring, but because I am rejuvinated by it. I am enriched by the sun and the green smell in the air. I love being in my garden. I love being surrounded by growth and life.

Best Sentence Ever

"You're fighting me, you can't be mad at me!" - SPF

Where is the sun?

I am very sad today. I am actually often very sad. Sad that I don't get out of the house. Sad that I don't have a reason to. And one of the things that gives me the greatest joy these days is being out in my garden, but it is very cold outside today, and my garden has been watered. The sun is out, I am certain, as the world hasn't stopped turning and we haven't disintegrated into debris, but she is hiding. Apollo makes his trip around the world, but doesn't heed the cloud cover beneath him.

Demeter whispers over my roses whether or not I am there to try and listen. There are bursting yellows, vibrant oranges, and, of course, the flawless velvet red. The aphids were destroyed by the ladybugs. The jasmine perfumes the air, though the hummingbirds prefer the lime tree.

In the irony of life, I wept when I felt I had found my purpose. I thanked the man that showed me the way, cried while smiling. I wept again when that purpose failed me and I was forced to see the world through cynical and bitter eyes again. I still weep for the fleeting nature of that dream. I am on a precipice where she is concerned, so often tired and alone by design. I don't want to be alone in this.