Yaaayy!   The cabinets were roughed in yesterday and the lead carpenter and I spent a while looking at the arrangements.  We made some minor moves of lower cabinets, I'm happy with the top ones.  I'm especially happy with the cabinet in the second picture on the top right corner.  They have ordered a special glass for the cabinet.  The lower cabinets on the island open from both sides.   In the third picture the pantry in the back left will have slide out shelves, wow.  The drawers and doors have slow closing mechanisms that keep them from banging.  These cabinets are bigger than the old cabinets and since I've gotten rid of lots of stuff, I shouldn't have any problem storing everything.   In the bottom picture on the left is a door, that is going in the bathroom so all the old brown doors will be gone.  Then a set of cabinets will go across the top and the new refrigerator and microwave will be on that wall. By the end of the week they should order the new granite counter top and then that should be a one day install next week - fingers crossed.

Money can't buy happiness

Lots of people say it, and it gets repeated to me every now and again that money can't buy happiness.  This is my new set of wheels, 333 horsepower, 255 ft lbs of torque, capable of 155 mph(but it supposedly is limited to 130 but I don't think I'll ever find out) and it is a convertible.  Does it make me happy? It places a huge smile on my face when I'm driving.   I feel happy when I'm driving.  I don't seem to think about much else when I'm driving.   Does it may be happy?  The philosophical question is, What is happiness?

Mentally, I'm in on a low this week.   Multiple things seem to be causing this, and the other night I really missed Mary.  I wanted her to see what I was doing, and approve of it.  Sunday, when I went for a drive in 50 degree weather with the top down, I was smiling and enjoying myself and I believed I was happy.  Later in the evening I was back to an emotional low.  Up and down and up and down.   The car makes me smile.

Did it buy me happiness, yes, but it wasn't permanent happiness.  I've gained control of my emotions for the most part.  There are still times when I tear up or cry, but they are fewer and fewer.  As I continue to reorganize our home I come across things that make me smile and evoke great memories.  I'm mentally filing them away for future rainy days.

Money won't buy me happiness, but being poor won't make me permanently happy either.  For now I'll accept that happiness is a moment to moment feeling that may someday be permanent regardless of how much or how little money I spend.  In the mean time, I'll continue to try and buy happiness, it's my money, I'm not in debt, I am low on happiness.  Next stop?  A trip to warmer climate for a week.  Where should I go?    

Kitchen

Yes - the remodeling of the kitchen has begun.  A couple of months after Mary died I decided that I'd do the kitchen remodel that Mary and I had discussed.  I talked to a couple of realtors and they said I should remodel the bathrooms if I wanted to improved the resale of the house.   I'm not worried about selling the house.  Haven't given it much thought.  I can't even figure out what I want to be doing with myself, let alone a home.  So, I've picked out new cabinets, new appliances, paint, etc and here we go.

It was time

I have avoided going to Arlington National Cemetery.  I've said it was too cold, too windy, too whatever.    I've allowed other things to get in the way as excuses.  It was past time to visit.  A friend of mine had written me and said that he stopped by Mary's grave site and she had new neighbors.

Last Saturday I decided it was past time.  I asked a good friend to go with me, kind of a safety net in case, well in case I needed some one to drive.  She stepped up and said of course and actually said she thought it was an honor that I would ask her to go with me.

It was a quick drive.  In retrospect I realize it I was very chatty as the trip started and by the time we got near the Pentagon I started getting very quiet.  When you have a loved one buried at Arlington you get a special pass for your car.   This pass gets you through two layers of traffic control and allows you to drive to the road nearest your loved ones grave site and park.  It is very nice.  I drove up within probably 100 yards of Mary's site.   Marsha and I got out and strolled towards Mary's grave site.  Marsha reached out and grabbed my hand.  It was reassuring to have someone hold my hand as we walked closer.  It wasn't too hard to find Mary's grave.  Right now there is a little metal frame that holds a card with Mary's name on it.  At that moment, even with Marsha holding my hand, everything else disappeared.  I know the wind was blowing, I know it was cold, I know my hand was being held, but all that disappeared for a few seconds.  I miss Mary.  I don't know how long I stood there, it wasn't but a moment.  I knew that I couldn't do it for long as my emotions were spinning up and then I realized I wasn't by myself and there was someone next to me, probably getting very cold.  I turned to my left and saw the USAF Memorial up by Henderson Hall.  I turned a few degrees more to my left and saw the Pentagon, as I continued turning left I saw the Jefferson Memorial, Washington Monument and then the Lincoln Memorial.  It is a very nice site.

It was a good day.  I'm sure there are more good days ahead.

Laurel Hills Memorial Park called looking for Mary.  It was time to renew the flower delivery to Mary's mom's grave site down by Fredericksburg.   When I explained to the young lady that Mary had died, the young lady apologized for bothering me and offered her condolences and was ready to hang up when I stopped her.   I was struck by the fact she wasn't going to try to keep selling me something like so many other telephone solicitors that have called in recent months.  I signed up for another year of flowers.

I do things and I can't explain why I do them, and sometimes I dont' care why I do them.  Sometimes I think for hours trying to understand my motives.  It doesn't matter. It is only important to me.