Today is the first day...

of the rest of my life!  (I found this unfinished post from October 2013 and decided to finish it).

Moving to a much smaller home after the kids move out has its challenges.  This house is 102 years old and is in the most beautiful area in southern Utah.  How we ended up here is another story in and of itself.  But where to put all our "stuff" is the question.  Actually, the question should be do I need all this "stuff"?

Learning to let go of material things is hard but empowering.  The nice mahogany furniture was sold at the consignment shop and the yard sale that would be isn't going to be.  I hate hosting yard sales more than root canals.  (Actually we finally threw it together last week.  I still hate hosting yard sales).  Anything that isn't given to friends and family is going to the thrift store.

Last week was my last week at The Alterations Shop.  I have mixed feelings.  Driving 40 minutes to work was getting to be too much.  I know there are people who commute much longer distances and my hat goes off to you.  But this was the right decision for me.  Giving up the income was a hard leap to make, but I still intend to do alterations from home.  This is also giving me time to make needed renovations to our cute little house.  One day it will be the cottage of my dreams.


We have a squirrel problem.  Our 100 year old home foundation is stone and mortar and is being hollowed out by a group of squirrels using it as their storage facility.  So we're taking matters into our own hands.  They have to go.

Hubby and I were pretty sure one died under there because he started smelling something that wasn't right and the flies were getting a little out of control.  Sure enough, each day the smell got worse and the flies were multiplying.  Fortunately for me, I didn't smell a thing.  I lost my sense of smell about 14 years ago when early signs of Parkinson's started showing up.

So guess who was nominated to go in after it?  I guess it makes sense.  I searched in the root cellar for a while in all the tunnels they've been digging.  Something smelled though.  Ewwwwwwwww.  Something's getting through!  If you haven't smelled a dead animal before, imagine rotten, oozing potatoes times ten.  Gross.  I won't go into details, but I found him outside in the hole he had dug.  He was stuck good!  Armed with rubber gloves and a pair of tongs, I finally got him out.

This smell thing is a blessing and a curse.  Blessing because I usually can't smell farts, but when I do smell something bad, it hangs around for hours.  I can't smell the wonderful aroma of good food, but I can taste it.  Go figure.
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