Sunday, April 2702025

Good day, subscribers.

Remember that bathroom update I shared a while ago? (You can catch up here if you missed it.)
Well, the journey continues…

You see, my house is a bit older — not brand-new like my first home — and I’ve been slowly working on little upgrades to make it feel like my sanctuary again. A place I can hurry home to, exhale, and feel completely at peace.
Inside or outside, I’m always trying to improve something. And yes, my brother helps me… and yes, he constantly warns me not to do things I shouldn’t.
But here I am — still a little stubborn.

If I were 100% healthy and had a reliable partner to lean on, maybe projects like these wouldn’t feel so overwhelming. But deep down, I believe God has me on reserve, saving the best for last.
(Although between you and me, sometimes I wish He would hurry up. But as always, God is never late — even when my impatient heart thinks so.)

Anyway, back to the adventure.

When I first bought this house, it had carpet — and if you know me, you know I despise carpet, especially with pets.
I adopted my two boys (cats) in 2023: Greyson (grey) and Midnight (black). They’ve been such a gift for my mental, emotional, and even physical health.

The bedrooms in my home have beautiful hardwood floors, so I guessed the living room and stairs might be hiding hardwood underneath that dreadful carpet too.
And guess what Andrea decided to do?
Yup — I started ripping it up myself!

When I told my brother, he immediately asked, “How do you even know there’s hardwood under there?”
I shrugged and said, “I just have a feeling.”

Well… he came over — and hallelujah, hardwood it was!
He helped me rip out the carpet on the stairs.
But then, life happened — surgeries, pain, recovery — so the project had to wait.

Months later, I tackled the rest of the living room carpet on my own.
And wow — the floors underneath were remarkable.

Now, I’m working on the harder part: removing all the staples and old wood borders.
Trust me when I say — this is not for the weak.
And strength-wise, let’s just say… hands up, I’m no Hercules.

Which brings me to today.

I was sitting on a little plant stand, trying to pull out a stubborn nail, when…
SNAP.
The plant stand broke.
And down I went.

But thank God — I was already sitting low to the ground.
No serious injuries. No new pain.
Just a bruised pride and a quick prayer of gratitude:
“Lord, thank you I was closer to the floor this time.” 🙏

Of course, I will get a scolding from my family —
“What were you doing?! Why didn’t you wait for help?!”
But when my story is finally told, this will just be another hilarious chapter of perseverance, faith, stubbornness… and trust in the bigger picture.

Still bent sometimes, but never broken.