Blue-Footed Musings

My husband and I went furniture shopping yesterday. We weren’t necessarily planning to buy anything. We just thought we’d just check out what was available. The experience turned out to be sort of depressing, though. None of the couches was quite what we wanted, and everything was so expensive.

But then we went to the bargain area and found a pair of couches that looked pretty good. They had just arrived on the floor. They were half price, because they’d been returned. I wasn’t sure I liked the color, but my hubby did, and the price helped to convince me. I said to him, “Let’s buy them, and if I hate the color, we’ll replace them in a few years.” He agreed, and we shook hands on it.

Earlier today he trucked home the larger of the two couches. The thing was nearly too heavy for me to lift my end of, let alone carry it all the way into and through the house. But, where there is a will, there is a way. And thank goodness we had a moving dolly to turn the task from almost impossible to merely difficult and awkward.

The couch is now in place. The color seems OK. I’m happy we finally have somewhere to sit in the great room, and it’s comfortable.

That’s the good news. The bad news is that I hurt my back, of course. And there’s still another couch to move

Change is coming. I can feel it in the air. Change to big things. Change to small things. I wish I felt that it would all be good.

What’s really annoying is when a scientist takes the plot for your novel and tries to turn it into real life. (BTW, I’m not suggesting for a moment that she “stole” my idea. I’m just unhappy that it’s taking me so long to write my speculative fiction that the real science is outpacing me.)