Reconstruction Update

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My goal was to move back into our bedroom by the Hobbits’ birthday (today). It is a goal which may actually happen. My husband and I have not spent the night in bed together here since the May storm. Our bedroom furniture is in the livingroom, the mattress and boxsprings upright against the wall, and we get dressed in the living room. It will seem odd to actually sleep in our bedroom, in one bed, and get dressed in the bedroom. I have come to take daily changes in stride.

I am taking an on-line course from the book, THE ARTIST’S WAY by Julia Cameron. It is to bring out your inner creativity. This week, one of our assignments is to list ten changes we would like to make. Suggestions were new shoes, a new bedspread, take a new class, etc. From May 29 on, every day has been filled with change.  We still have eight dumpsters in the neighborhood, and I’ve heard that one elderly neighbor passed away from the stress of being displaced. His house was split by the trees and was unlivable. It remains so. It’s true that he was elderly, but everyone in the neighborhood knows the stress of this catastrophe-recovery and how long and lingering it is. As I type this, I hear a chainsaw in the wooded lot next to us, a circular saw and hammering from another house, and some sort of drill on the other side of our house, a drill which sounds each time like a giant is clearing his nose.

Last Friday, we got new blinds installed in the master bedroom. Yesterday, while the tree removal guys took down two of our damaged trees, I spent the day finishing up preparing the master bedroom — staining the rest of the floorboards and door and closet to match what our contractor did to two floorboards; I painted the bed headboard, and painted the three air vents. Today I wiped plaster dust from the top level of the closet. Tonight I may just sleep once again with my husband. We’ll probably lay awake all night long.

What has all this to do with writing? Life. I journal. I remember. Someday you may see these things, these feelings, in a story or dozen. Or maybe some writing friends will read this and understand a portion of what it’s like to go through a catastrophe, and just how long it takes to recover.

My challenge to you is to write about what is going around you right now. It may not be construction noises, but listen and see and smell and feel, then write.

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