Sad Sunday

I've been in my craft room all day, trying to occupy my mind with something other than all that crap we are facing. But I look up from my beading to see ghost shapes on the wall, stamped there when the sons were young and something I've never been able to paint over. I could have, I just don't want to. And then one of those dog adoption commercials come on a and I think about our big dog Rocco and wonder if we can take him with us. He's 75 pounds so fairly large so how likely is it that someone would rent to us with him. But he's such a sweetheart it will kill me to give him away. I never would recover. This is what keeps me up at night. How much will our lives change and will the older son move with us and how his life will change and the dog and all the ways good especially when your head keeps whispering awful what ifs into your ear hourly. I just have to hope I can handle the change and not crumple into pieces. I fear that crumple I will. I can be so predictable

Little Blue House

I live in a little blue house. A rather delapidated little blue house. It nneds so much work that we cannot afford to do. We need a new kitchen floor and there are four overhead light fixtures that no longer work. The gardens are overgrown and the bamboo in the back yard is slowly making its way to the house where it will probably stop in for a plate of the older son's spaghetti.
It's a little blue house. It's a crummy little blue house but it is home and it is in danger. We have our own business that isn't doing well at all. We've been treated out of a couple of large commissions which would have helped in catching up with the bills.
So we are drowning and home is threatened and I plan on using this blog to chronical the whole sorry mess, hoping it will help me deal with it. If I ever could.