I’m still feeling very early Beatles. My Youtube jolt of the morning was them singing “Komm Gib Mir Deine Hand” dubbed over a film of them singing, “”I Want to Hold Your Hand”. Liam and I agree that the song might sound better in German. When I hear it, I wonder what the lyrics are word-for word. I wonder that they found a way to make the lyrics fit so perfectly with the music, and that they rhyme.
I get a kick out of watching the old film with Ringo flipping his hair around because he had hair enough to flip. That cute haircut, now worn by young boys , used to be radical. I just laugh.
Every year, Liam’s hair starts too short for my liking and travels non-stop to what most people think is too long. First Saturday of Summer, he goes to the barber for his buzz-cut. When he returns a year later, his hair hangs past his shoulders, and the bangs have grown out completely. I like it now, he can swing it.
I haven’t posted any views from my window in ages. Remember that yawning maw in my backyard?; that sheer drop right up against my backdoor? It’s gone, gone, gone. Above the basement that the pit used to be rises a fully-framed two-storey structure. It has walls and window-frames; the windows should be arriving this week or next. It has a roof. I can walk out the backdoor, Hell, I can climb out my bedroom window, and walk around the spaces where the rooms are going to be.
It’s noisy here. Last week, just being inside this building being built gave me a thundering headache which shouldn’t have kept my away from Kung Fu practice, but which did ( Liam told me I should find the commitment of a ten-year-old and g0 ).
Last week, it poured down rain for days on end. I actually missed the building sounds; they can be more grounding than the rain, but not every day.
The siding I’ve always hated has been ripped from all but the front of the house. Now, we have the pleasure of picking the color of the new siding. When, Jamie, the kids, and I are driving, we pass houses and ask each other if we love, or hate, the color. The kids want red. Jamie and I just agree that it has to be a full-on color, no beige, no apologies.
Shopping for kitchen cabinets and bathroom fixtures offers all kinds of entertainment. You can go around opening drawers to feel how smoothly they slide. You can imagine your kitchen just the way you want it, even though you know that you can’t have every bit of it.
You can laugh at other people’s appalling taste; that’s the best part. I have fun coming up with ways to say exactly how wrong things look. Some over-large shower heads look like the bottoms of spring-form pans nailed full of holes. Some bathroom set-ups have a space-age feel that I just don’t like. “Too ‘ ground-control to Major Tom’’”, I say. I’ve seen some blue-green tiles that are beautiful; a color I’d love to wear, but don’t want to see on my shower walls For those who like that sort of thing, that is the sort of thing they like.
In Ikea last week, Liam and I agreed that one sink looked like a urinal. Not what I would want to spit toothpaste into for the foreseeable future, but Liam loved it. Everybody has an opinion.
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