a home of one's own

Today was a success because I went running after an unintended four-day haitus, I ate at least two vegetables, and Edie and I got some good playin' in after work.

Also, I'm finally blogging about our new home after four weeks of keeping my faithful readers in the dark.

The house was in "turnkey" condition when we bought it meaning we opened the door, moved our stuff in, and parked our butts on the couches that were left behind. The woman who sold us our house kept the place immaculate. Let's call her Maureen. Maureen was an avid gardener, and a very generous woman who sold us pretty much any furniture (indoor and out) that we wanted. Did I mention she loved gardening?

I am absolutely confident that I'll kill the garden in two months flat. Frankly I can't believe the greenery is still green. Maureen swore that it was a breeze to keep up, which I'm sure is true if I had 4 hours of weekend time to weed and prune rose bushes. My one hope is that Edie will chill in the Ergo while I bumble around, armed with shears and a big brown bag for collecting weeds (my hope is equally for me and for the baby).

So far we've painted our dining room. And by 'we' I mean my mom and dad, who have also re-wired our front porch light, dismantled and remantled our bedroom furniture to get it up the stairs, and hung our t.v. I've bought one new piece of art, which I'm anxiously awaiting, and could drop some serious moolah on home decor, no problem. But I'm honoring our budget so we're stuck with curtains of the Great Aunt variety, at least for a little while.

I am truly ecstatic that we finally own a home. I've been a renter for ten years, and although I've had a pretty good string of landlords, it's awesome to not have to ask if I can paint the walls, to have ample storage, and to not have a front door in the kitchen (I'm talkin' about you, Densmore Ave). I'll post more photos soon, but I hope this gives you a peep into the totally rad home we're calling our own.

Days Gone By

My Aunt Monique just passed away at age 43.

My dad came by yesterday to dismantle our box spring, which didn't fit up the stairs. We chatted a bit, while I was getting ready to meet my uncle for a run in the res. My dad called me out to the garage, and he was obviously upset. He said, "My sister died." I immediately guessed Monique, and good thing, because my dad has six sisters, and that wouldn't be a fun game.

(she's second to left)

Monique was the youngest of the nine Michaud children. I remember her as a Conard High School cheerleader and camp counselor at Beachland Park. She had her own powder blue Honda Civic, a water bed, made lanyards, and had friends with '80s names like Susie and Lynn. Needless to say, I thought she was the coolest when I was in elementary school. I even had a short pleated wool skirt, which I considered my homage to Aunt Monique. (Also, my middle name is Monique, after her).

(she's the blonde on the left)

Upon graduating, Monique couldn't get out of the Connecticut fast enough, and enrolled at University of Central Florida. My parents took me and Ashley to Orlando when I was in third grade, and we crashed with Monique in her sunny Florida apartment. We all went to Disneyland and Sea World, and I wore my Thriller shirt for approximately four days straight. Monique had Alphabets cereal, which she kept on top of her fridge, and that was pretty enlightening when all I knew was Kix. Did I mention she had a sweet tooth? She had an unabashed big appetite for junk food.

During my senior year at Conard, my mom took me and Ashley to Florida again. By that time, Monique had graduated and was making big bucks, thanks to the late-90s real estate boom. She had a big home in a subdivision with a built-in pool. She was married to a nice guy and had a baby daughter, and a sharpei named Kong. She drove a Mustang convertible, had a hearty laugh, a big butt, and big blonde bangs. She was living the life, in that central Florida kind of way.

(still on the left, cheering on the Cheiftan hockey team)

I last saw Monique with her two kids at Ashley's wedding, two years ago. Monique was still fun loving, but she had packed on a lot of weight. Her glory days as a hot real estate agent were gone, and she had begun selling burial plots for a living. She was divorced, and remarried, and didn't have much to her name. Still, she met Dave and saw me pregnant, and it was nice to see her.

See died suddenly on Monday of a heart attack, after being hospitalized briefly a few months ago for an unknown heart condition, and a diabetes diagnosis. I feel bad for her kids the most. And it is strange that one of the nine Michaud kids is gone.

I prefer to think of her in her glory days, as the cute blonde cheerleader that she was. And she was the apple of Pepere's eye.