The Little 'Box Dungeon'

I spend so much time lounging around in the little 'box dungeon' I call home, I can't quite decide if I have come to love it or hate it. Maybe I can't decide as I know it is both. It constantly possesses dirt ridden floors, mostly to its credit I suppose, I would feel special too if I were filthy enough to resist the sheer power of a vacuum cleaner. While these super powers are a one-up for the little 'box dungeon', they are a one-down to my cleaning efforts. It is a shame the floors are so clean resistant, as I am positive they would be more comfortable to sleep on than the concrete slab Stuart and I call our bed. Good thing 

I never really fancied my spine anyway....take that spine!

Despite its flaws, once you get past the constant smell of dirt, the grimy surfaces (again to the houses credit, despite my cleaning efforts), black oven, noisy taps, numerous holes, red dirt tinged louvers and the charming vine growing in the laundry, it really isn't so bad. I particularly love the new balancing skills I am acquiring every time I walk on the front steps due to them not being screwed to the planks. You come to appreciate the personal 'high five' moment when you balance right and don't misjudge, knock up a plank and take a 'less than delicate' approach to reach the ground which results in falling on my backside. Ahhhh, so graceful!

I suppose I have an extreme 'love-hate' relationship with the little 'box dungeon'. I hate being stuck in it and love coming home to it (it has become a sanctuary of sorts in an unpredictable environment). But most importantly, I love to hate it. My little 'box dungeon' has character, spirit, surprises and dirt. While it isn't the fanciest house I have ever lived in, it sure is the most interesting.

'Til next post.

Kimmy xx