Rearrangement derangement
Judy Conlin
Amid trying to downsize, I find myself shifting furniture from room to room and place to place. Once there, I never like it. Off I go again, digging in my heels, and ignoring the protests from 2 very arthritic knees. This goes on day after day until I finally give in or give out- mostly give out. Maybe I should ditch all this furniture and just buy new. Nurse Judy, my extravagant alter ego, likes this suggestion and has her hat and coat ready to go shopping. Of course, she will immediately go off course and steer us away from furniture stores and towards apparel, shoe or millinery shops. I’ve lived with her too long to fall for this trap.
That leaves me with trying to rearrange what I have into a refreshing enchanting new look. I drag myself out of bed and start dragging furniture. Luckily, I can’t move the commode , shower or sinks or I would be in the midst of a plumbing disaster. As it is, I am surprised by the things I find as I shove things around. Christmas tinsel is a frequent surprise nestled underneath an antique sofa in a crevice on the floor. I have no idea how long it has been there. It has lost its shine and is covered with dust, but just by still hanging around shows its Christmas spirit.
Long forgotten dog and cat toys come flying out of surprising places much to the delight of the cats. Even though they have two bins overflowing with toys, these are just the ones they’ve been missing. They begin batting them around and having a grand time even though they are stirring up quite a dust cloud. I try to ignore them as I keep on searching for the perfect spot for the ancient victrola. Feeling nostalgic, I pull out an old record, with only grooves on one side. I crank up the machine and it begins to play a waltz in its own squeaky fashion. I grab a dustmop and begin dancing with it to the nostalgic groans coming from another time and place. This has the cats sitting back on their heels watching this whole drama in surprise.
They are not half as surprised as my trembling knees which are shooting pain signals to my brain like shooting stars. I can’t keep up the pace and throw myself on a loveseat that’s’ on wheels. We roll across the room and land by the picture window. I lay there for a while trying to get my heartrate and my pain level down. After quite a long respite, I wrestle myself into a sitting position, then slowly I become upright again. I feel just like a regular human once again.
Breathing in short gulps, I look at the loveseat. It looks great in this new position. I would never have thought of putting it there. That looks great, I say to myself just as the 2 cats jump up on it and curl down for naps. It’s obvious that they approve of this transition also. Hooray, the first success of the day. Maybe I should just allow the furniture to make its own decisions about where it should go. I just give it a push and then watch. So much less wear and tear on me.
This plan is doomed for failure right from the start. Most of the furniture is not on wheels. I give it a push, and it goes nowhere. I am back to the old push and pull method and the cries to STOP IT from 2 over tired patellae. I gave a few more feeble tries and then call it a day. Look around. Everything is right back where it was except for the loveseat and the table it has replaced. There is no space left for the table.
I go to bed exhausted, leaving the table in the middle of the floor. I cannot sleep. What am I going to do with this wretched table. Could I burn it?’ Could I chop it up and throw it in the trash? Could I give it away? (No one in their right mind would take it.) Could I sell it? (Same problem. No one in their right mind would want it.)
I get out of bed on shaky protesting knees. I shove the love seat back in front of the fireplace and put the table back in front of the picture window. All is exactly as before. It only took about 12 hours’ time, 10 years off my life, and heaven knows what I’ve done to my knees, On the positive side, I found a lot of lost articles, the cats had fun, I cleaned up a bit of dust, and I really do like this new rearrangement.
More later,Judy
www.nursejudyinfo.com
