A reminder: if you are joining us midstream, these daily chapters are posted consecutively over at WordsbyMo.blogspot.com.
Also, have you visited The Nester and shared in the bounty available there? Lots of yummy ideas and eye-candy to browse.
Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six
Day Seven
Day Eight
Day Nine
Day Ten
Day Eleven
Day Twelve
Day Thirteen
Day Fourteen
Day Fifteen
Day Sixteen
Day Seventeen
Day Eighteen
Day Nineteen, Friday
Today, Morgan wanted to weed in the backyard, sweep off the
patio, go to Home Depot to buy the sandpaper and paint for the table and
dresser, and read. Winter Solstice
was waiting for her. How were Elfrida
and Oscar coping with all the changes? And who was this Sam guy? How would he
be part of their story?
First, her cleaning day. She made a quick pass through the
rooms, stopped especially to enjoy the space and emptiness of the guest room. She
left the door open, now. This will be a happy place, a productive place, and
soon, she thought. She vacuumed and dusted and straightened, opened windows to
bring in the crisp breeze. She stood at
the open window, drinking in the cool air. Her house was becoming more than a
place to hide in, a place to keep her busy. Her house, like herself, was
opening up.
Before she went to Home Depot, she measured the spaces with
the missing drawers on the dresser. The frame pieces for the drawers were still
there. It would be simple to nail a piece of wood on to those to make a floor
for the baskets. Morgan tried the existing drawers in different spots, deciding
where she would rather have the empty slots, decided on the top two spaces for
the baskets. She would have them cut the pieces there, then she could nail them
on and paint them. Should be simple. She measured for the baskets, too, and put
the measurements in her wallet to have when she found some she liked.
By two o’clock, she was back home and out on the patio, her
feet up on the footstool, a glass of cold lemonade beside her. The book sat
unopened in her lap. A soft smile on her face, she gazed across the yard. The
yellow and purple chrysanthemums bloomed happily. The alyssum spilled over the
edges of the pot. The purple and white petunias still had blossoms, although
they were starting to look tired.
She thought of the other back yard. Run ragged by that dog.
Trampled by her boys. Ignored by her husband. She loved having a space she
could take care of, keep beautiful, enjoy on her own. Surprised by the calm she
felt. A few months ago, she wouldn’t have thought this possible. Then, in the
middle of the crisis, she didn’t feel like life would ever feel normal again.
An army of memories marched by. Tom, leading the way with
his banner of anger and resentment toward anyone, everyone. Her boys, Eli and
Shane, caught in the sour moods, unable to gain his respect or attention. She, unable to balance the atmosphere in the
house, unable to keep the peace between them all. Until that last blowout
happened.
She picked up the book. Opened it to her bookmark, and
sighed. Perhaps, this odd combination of characters will be able to sort
themselves out, recover from their mistakes, rebuild their messed up lives. I
hope so, it would give me hope and courage, too, she thought.
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