How Many Baptists Does It Take . . . . Part II

We're still checking things off of our "to do" list from the home inspector and the buyer. At the top of the buyer's list - something that the sale of the house depended on - was a closet in the master bedroom. We didn't have one. We have a big, beautiful bedroom, a big, beautiful bathroom complete with jacuzzi tub and no closet! You see, up until abouty six years ago, our master bedroom was a two car garage. My mother, who was 87 at the time, had suffered a massive heart attack. It was one of those situations that they don't prepare you for in the "what to expect when you grow up book". Our roles were reversed. I was no longer the little girl and she was no longer the strong, independent woman who could conquer the world. At any rate, we knew that she would no longer be able to drive and that it probably wouldn't be long before she wasn't able to live alone. The solution . . . we'd add on to our house so she could move in with us. We have friends from church in all areas of construction, I'm married to the plumber . . . So while I was making daily trips back and forth to the hospital and evntually the rehab center, keeping up with my work, making sure that my busy middle schooler was where he needed to be at the appointed time I pretty much left all of the major decisions up to the guys. I told them I trusted their judgement on all of the technical aspects and that when it came time to pick colors, etc, I'd give my input. Mother was eventually discharged from rehab and was able to go back to her little apartment. I was still making daily trips in to check on her and to help her decide what she was going to bring with her and what we would sell at the yard sale. I was still trying to keep up with my work and with my son. I stuck my head in the room to check on things once in a while, but as promised I left everything up to the guys. Every once in a while when I stuck my head in there, I got that nagging feeling that something was missing. In the mean time, mother was re-admitted to the hospital with another problem. So back and forth to the hospital, back and forth to Ryan's activities, back and forth to pick up and drop off work. I came home one afternoon just as a couple of the guys were loading up the truck. The drywall was done! I could start picking out paint and carpet colors! Great! I needed a distraction! I walked in and looked around. It was beautiful. I'm thinking, "OK, I'll paint the walls this color and we can use that color for the carpet and the bed will go over here, and my dresser will go over here and we can put the TV on the stand over by the clo . . . . Hey! Where's the closet? Uh, honey! Where is the closet? D, where's the closet?" I got blank stares. "Uh, I think we forgot to ask you where you wanted it." "Well, we could . . . or maybe we . . . uh, where do you want it?" The final decision was made by way of a quick trip through an antique warehouse sale one afternoon while mother was having some tests done. They had two matching armoirs. If I had cash and could pick them up that day, he'd let me have them for a steal because he had a shipment coming in the next day and needed the room. So, for the past six years we've used beautiful vintage Brittish armoirs as our "closet".

So, when it came time to list the house, the realtor questioned us about the closet (or lack thereof). He assumed that the armoirs were family heirlooms and that we had designed the room around them. "Uh, yeah! That's it!". So we came up with three alternatives for prospective buyers, including keeping the armoirs. When the alternatives were presented to this buyer (actually her mother, who will be living here too) she said a resounding "NO!!!" when offered the armoirs. The second alternative was a "custom" built-in from Ikea along the window wall complete with drawers and window seat. "NO! That's too much like the wardrobes I've had to use all of my life. I want a CLOSET!" Third alternative . . . . move the washer and dryer down to the other end of the utility room, cut a door through the wall between the bedroom and the utility room, add a wall to divide the new closet from the utility room and . . . . "YES! That's what I want!". So Super Plumber moved the washer and dryer hookup to the other end of the utility room and our friend Scott (Carpenter Extraordinaire and Drywall Guru)came to help with the rest.



Just another hour or so worth of finish work tomorrow, and Scott will be coming out of the closet so I can go in and paint! Sorry. I just couldn't resist that one.

One more short story made long by a rambling, nervous, sleep deprived middle ager!

Blessings y'all!

P.S. I let you know that "Super Tucker" is a preacher, so I have to let you know that Scott (and his wife Beth) sings like an angel! With any luck, Scott will sing the special the night that Tucker preaches then I can get a CD with both of them on it to pass around to anyone who wants to hear!