Caleb and His Plants

We’re still renovating the house and it’s been a chaotic scene in all parts of the house. Our own vast underworld of drywall pieces and a giant shop vac and ladders and plastic boxes of screws everywhere, unpleasant and possibly toxic fumes wafting out of open windows, wires hanging out of walls and ceilings. Continue as a verb seems a bit optimistic, we’ve been in a state of renovation for the last three years, and every once in a while there’s some motion that kicks up some dust, trying to close out some permit or install some plumbing, someone sanding or trying to paint over the kids marker drawings on the wall. The plants have been moved around, congregating around the few available windows, Caleb agreeably lost in the jungle of them, only too pleased to avoid being sighted and thus called to practice his cello.

Caleb is currently storing his cello, music stand and music in a bathroom with a non-functioning toilet, and I’m not sure what that says about the state of the house, his views on music, or how parenting is going, much less music practice.

Lots to do, lists unfurling endlessly, a stack of correspondence filled with lovely words and stories waiting for me to get my act together.

We continue onwards, as there is, unfortunately, no other way to go. One cat terminally ill, the other cat terminally cranky, but at least with new paint on some of the walls.