Been a whole lot of rearranging going on in the course of the paint projects. I am a compulsive rearranger, so that is no surprise to anyone who knows me. My functional reason for rearranging is my allergy to household dust. My allergy demands I get the dust which collects under things, as well. Putting it back the way it was calls for moving it twice, once to dust and again to put it back. My personal method is, "move, dust. move, dust." The new arrangement makes for half the furniture moves. The amazing part here is that hubs has been helping without any Tit-for-Tat skirmishes.

Hubs and I even managed to open quite a bit of space in the process. Shelves for the bee equipment was the biggest space improvement. Making use of that vertical space (walls) sure frees up the floor space.

Seems like I feel every over-stuffed Thing Pile in the country shaking eagerly to come eat up my newly opened floor space. I tell myself I am being silly, but. . . Rattle, rattle. . . I tell myself it is just radiation from youngest son's family sized storage in the master bedroom. . . The rattle keeps coming from all directions. . . Rattle rattle. . .

Then begins the textella about eldest son's impending homelessness. Hubs already told him we need to work on our own issues. No, you can't move back in. This textella was shopping for a place to put his apartment furnishings. Ouch.

Rattle rattle. . .

Is that the FIL and an employee entourage with another silver platter U-Haul?

Told the eldest son, "No storage space available. Prayers in progress. Love you."

Just ranting. . .