E has had a very busy work schedule of late, either taking him out of town or keeping him tied up away from family when he is in town.  I am by nature a very social person.  I have also discussed on this blog my slightly uncommon situation of being married to-- and completely in love with-- my best friend.  This means that when E spends too much time away from the Chateau, I get a bit lonely.  Yes, I've got nearly nonstop entertainment in the form of my two daughters.  However, they do go to bed (eventually).  I realize in times like these how much I take for granted those five minutes after he walks in the door when we both have each other to vent about our respective days.
    After a certain amount of exposure to this situation, I always get a strange form of cabin fever.  Usually I just spend as much time out of my too quiet house as possible.  Eventually, though, home itself has to change.  So today it did.  Furniture moved.  Big furniture.  Through the very small openings known as doorways in a house built in 1950.  Powered only by this 5'7" machine-- and machine I was:  methodical and completely singularly focused on my task until it was complete.  Luckily both girls were willing to cooperate with my need to accomplish what I had started.  I think even my four-year-old could see that there was cause for concern about how little clearance there was for this massive transit.  She looked at me like I may need professional help (either therapy or moving men) when I resorted to removing both the oven drawer and the freezer door handle to gain the last necessary inch of wiggle room.  
    I'm so glad it's done.  My brain feels cleansed now.  You see, I was up to my eyeballs in a good book when I suddenly couldn't concentrate on the story.  Out of nowhere I was blindsided by a vision of my triple-purpose room being relieved of one of its functions.  We have a large sun room that we completely live in during all waking hours.  It is-- or,rather, was-- the family room (i.e. T.V. room), dining room, and playroom.  We also have a decent sized living room full of furniture that is only really used for the one small corner where the computer armoire is residing.  I learned something today:  if ever again I choose to move a dining room by myself through a kitchen by way of two tight 90 degree turns and a ridiculously narrow doorway, I will first purchase a much less beastly dining table.  At one point I was certain I was staring paralysis in the face if that sucker had fallen from its on-end maneuvering position.  My dad is going to be so mad when he reads this and realizes I didn't call him to help me.  Sorry.  You know me.  Wouldn't change me for the world, right, Daddy?
    At the very least, my tired body is going to assist me in sleeping quite well tonight.  Sweet dreams!

CL