Our house is in shambles. (Wait, what is that phrase? Is a house IN shambles, or is a house A shambles? Its… oh, I’ll Google it later.)
This house = shambles. Multiple shambles. All of the shambles.
There are boxes full of film-making things just scattered everywhere. There are enormous spider puppets lounging on my furniture, there are huge glass tubes filled with water and food coloring and the remnants of dry ice. There are nerf guns and muddy foot prints and tripods and cameras and lights and gels and fog machines and cords.
Not to mention beer bottles and leftover lunch and bowls full of “special effects” goop and fake blood and towels that were used to clean the “special effects” up.
And there is joy
and momentum to get these projects done.
And that’s what happens around here (and, I imagine, at your house, too) when creative things happen.
Things get messy.
And then things get cleaned up.
And it makes me so deep-down-in-my-toes-tingly-happy to help him make this happen.
Even if it means staying out of the way
and babysitting the frightened puppy
and blogging by myself.