Space for One

Holidays re-energize me. At least until 9:00am. Then I remember what I started the day before and what I need to finish before my nephews come and spend the night this Friday. From our second floor hallway there is another short flight of steps up to a dormer room. I intended this room for when kids (specifically, four nephews and/or a niece) come to visit but it wasn't high on the list of priorities to finish. It is however one of those things that could be done as an "in-between" projects project. Like when you're not quite ready to tackle the kitchen. Besides, nothing like a deadline as a bit of incentive - if it isn't done, those little kids will be bunking in our room.

Here it is. The Room Formerly Known As The Blue Room. Nice view out onto the backyard and a couple of safety features designed to keep little kids, and dogs I suppose, from tumbling out the window. See the little closet? It has a twin on the other side of the window. Closet 1 and Closet 2. This will make more sense later (or perhaps not). The Room has by default become a repository for stuff we haven't unpacked. Some of it is actually stuff for the kids' room. No matter, it all had to be moved to the guest room across the hall.

Voila! Empty room. Except the bucket of drywall compound I lugged upstairs to fill the hundreds of nail holes. Nails, tacks, pins, screws. I'll bet there was enough stuff hanging on the wall that there wasn't a square inch of blue visible. Last to leave was the horse. It's a stuffed rocking horse that belonged to my baby brother. One day I'll refurbish it, but that's not even a project for in between projects right now. Besides, I think Rory was making friends with it. Or having a stare-down.

Rory wavers...head down, but eyes still on the horse.

The horse wins. And is happily removed from the room. Now that it is empty, Rory seems to have decided that it's a good room just for him.

Holes, holes and more holes. Plus a patch job to fill the box that used to hold the intercom.

And more holes.

Rory banished to frolic in the sunbeams from the new skylights - he wants to know if "his" room is done yet. Nope. But he has to stay downstairs while I sand. What he thinks I don't know is that as soon as I go back up to the room and close the door, he comes upstairs, over to the steps and puts his front paws on the top step with his nose right at the space under the door.

So here's the thing. The light switch plate had a label on it. Just like this. Except it read "LIGHT SWITCH". I thought it was strange, and took it off. The switch plate had to come off anyway so I can paint. That weirdness over with, I discovered that both the closets are labeled - on the inside - so we have CLOSET 1 and CLOSET 2. I silently speculate and come up with a number of reasons for the label-machine-gone-wild scenario. Nothing spectacularly rational came to mind but the mental exercise was worthwhile. Then this. I'd never been in the room with the door shut. Why would I? Whenever I was in the room, the door was open. All we had ever done was put stuff in the room and close the door behind us on the way out. But now I have the door closed so that Rory doesn't get covered in drywall dust. And I'm inside. And apparently I'll have no trouble finding my way out because the door knob is quite clearly labeled. And in case I need more help I can just follow the sound of the 100 pound dog breathing heavy at the bottom of the door.