Our house, in the middle of our street...

...Our house it has a crowd

There's always something happening

And its usually quite loud

Our mum she's so house-proud

Nothing ever slows her down

And a mess is not allowed

Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, in the middle of our ...

I keep humming this Madness song...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m5dUwen9I2A



When we left our house to move to Vancouver, we got rid of lots of stuff, inside and out. We got rid of cheap furniture that we bought when we first married, kid's toys (the littlest one was just out of luck and had to grow up fast) and anything that we didn't love. I read once that Rossetti said something like, "only keep things that are very beautiful or very useful." I like that.

Then we arrived this week we made a second sweep. Plus we scrubbed and refinished every inch after renting (no comment on the state of the house because I'm really trying to clean up my language). We have fresh paint and new carpet, all in shades of grey, ready to show off our art work collection. I have to say that all the the hard work of moving and moving again has had a positive payoff...our home looks beautiful. It feels good. We are still have a pretty big load of work to do, but it's happy work with my lovely, patient partner.

I have recently been thinking about object memory. Do objects have memories? Does our house remember us/me? Huh. I'm trying not to think about it too hard but I did live in this house as a kid and there was/is lots of love there. Does it seep into the structure? Did the house sigh as we walked back in and lovingly touched every bit and made it beautiful? Have I been using too many chemicals and need to get some fresh air?