A Strange Dust

Our house reminds me of Morrisey's song, Every Day is Like Sunday, only without the melodrama. Actually the only thing that really pertains is the not-so-fine layer of dust that's coating, oh...EVERYTHING downstairs, including my nose hairs, which are disturbingly white in the mirror.

Yes, Gentle Reader, we've been sanding spackle and drywall again. Our little random orbital sander kicks out an infuriating amount of dust, despite the fact that it has a bag that's supposed to catch that stuff. Ah well. The kitchen will be the better for it.

I'm not going to go into the seemingly endless saga of the renovation. Suffice to say, there are only a few things left to do, and my stomach will obediently unknot itself once they're done.
In the meantime, our kitchen is something like the equivalent of picking up a piece of poop and discovering that there's a diamond inside. It's so so so so so much better than it was. Sometimes we just stand in the door and look at it. Right before the latest flurry of sanding and dust, we actually cooked in it. Both of us. In the kitchen at ONCE. Cooking. With food on the actual counterspace we now have, and setting dishes in the actual, working sink we now have without being afraid of massive rust marks permanently staining them. All of these things were unheard of in our previous "kitchen." Once we're done painting, I will post before and afters.

I'm seriously thrilled about it. I may not be jumping for joy, because my muscles all over ache from all the frantic hefting, scraping, painting, sawing, nailing, shoveling, weeding, raking, etc. etc., but be assured that I'm jumping for joy on the inside. I also may not post again for a little while, because this week is the last before the Boy moves down to Cinci, and the last before our house goes on the market--ie, we must continue the crazy, no-sleep drive toward being ready for both those things. I've got so much to do here that I don't even care right now that my car is dead. I wouldn't be going anywhere anyway. I'm sure I'll care when this is over and I want to visit someone or need to do something not at home, but for now--whatevah. I have a new kitchen!

I sincerely apologize to people whose calls or emails I haven't returned. I will get in touch with you--promise! It might not be this week, though.