• Clean out the storage unit. It still holds the carpet remnants from when my grandparents replaced the wall-to-wall when I was seven years old. It must go.
• Deal with the Indian blankets that I found in the hall closet, moth-infested, right after my grandmother died (nearly 8 years ago). They’re in the same plastic bags we threw them into as we prepared the apartment for her memorial luncheon.
• Get that damned undercarriage rattle on my car fixed.
• Replace the broken cart in my dining room.
• Organize recipes for a Fork You cookbook.
• Retile the bathroom and replace the vanity (the drain is badly rusted).
• Mail two boxes of pictures and video tapes to my family in Hawaii (they’re all of them).
• Replace the light fixture in the kitchen.

I think that’s it for now. I’ll be back to this list on occasion, for updates, additions and the blessed satisfaction of crossing things off.

In the last seven years of living in my apartment (seven years! where did the time go?) one of my primary complaints has been the lack of outdoor space. I’ve longed to be able to have a little patch of earth adjacent to my home, in which I could grow a few things and in which I could experience the weather without having to shower and dress.

This summer, I’ve satisfied part of my longing. Thanks to a quirk of life that put me in the right place, at the right time, talking to the right person, I’ve found myself with a 4 x 8 community garden plot for the low, low price of $25 a year. It’s in no way adjacent to my living space, it’s actually a good mile and a half away from home, and yet I am still totally delighted by it. I’ve planted tomatoes, herbs, cucumbers and a variety of squashes and I’m hoping to harvest something delicious very soon. It’s a quick bike ride down to the plot and I visit it several times a week (we’ve had a really rainy June here in Philly, so I haven’t had to water all that much).

For the last few months, I’ve had it in my head to paint the back wall of the kitchen in chalkboard paint. About a month ago, I got myself to Lowe’s to buy a can of paint. Once home, I moved it from desk to table, counter to cabinet, always finding ways to avoid tackling the project. Last Friday night, I decided to paint a patch of the wall as motivation to get it finished this weekend.

When I was halfway through, I was suddenly gripped with worry that I had made a horrible mistake painting an entire wall of my diminutive, windowless kitchen a light-swallowing black. However, a pep-talk from Scott kept me going and I finished the job. Now that the tape is removed and the space put back together, I am quite delighted with the effect. I’m looking forward to using the wall for notes, reminders and recipes.