The puddle menaces the sheetrockThat hail I mentioned yesterday as a possible explanation for the state of the daffodils? It fell today, making a puddle that grew and grew towards the pile of supplies delivered by Point P yesterday that we couldn't bring inside since it rained all evening yesterday, too.
This was the worst case scenario.
I pulled on my new North Face super lightweight, waterproof ski jacket, grabbed the plastic drop cloth I used to protect the sisal when I was painting the summer room and crossed the terrace to lay it over the whole pile. The ends of the rolls of insulation weren't covered enough against the rain, just like one end of the pile of panels of sheetrock, and, as far as I can tell, the bottom of that pile isn't covered either, just sitting a few centimeters at best above the rain slick concrete and a few millimeters at worst at the end closest to the puddle. I reached down for the twentieth time to touch the insulation and the ends of the sheetrock panels, secured the drop cloth with firewood and grabbed the old broom the workers abandoned on the wood pile to push as much of the swelling puddle away as possible before it overtook the end of the piled up panels, drooping under their own considerable weight.
The sun has just come out, the sky has cleared, and I must mark the lengths on the metal framing members for my husband to cut this evening. He promised to come home as early as possible to do that, and I am not -- surprise, surprise -- ready.
I spent all day avoiding cleaning up the piles of diarrhea left by one of the dogs during the night on the living room wool rug that I discovered when I nearly stepped in the largest, on my way to sit down and start my work this morning with my coffee in hand. Rapide, I suspect. A new symptom to report to the vet if any of the others return.
I considered running to IKEA for a new rug, if they had another one just like this one, hoping my husband wouldn't notice -- no explanation required or defense to mount --, but then I realized it would only happen on the new one. And I want a lovely large woolen kilim.
Right. That's the day I build the dog house.
What an inglorious feeling, I'm procrastinating again.
....
This was the worst case scenario.
I pulled on my new North Face super lightweight, waterproof ski jacket, grabbed the plastic drop cloth I used to protect the sisal when I was painting the summer room and crossed the terrace to lay it over the whole pile. The ends of the rolls of insulation weren't covered enough against the rain, just like one end of the pile of panels of sheetrock, and, as far as I can tell, the bottom of that pile isn't covered either, just sitting a few centimeters at best above the rain slick concrete and a few millimeters at worst at the end closest to the puddle. I reached down for the twentieth time to touch the insulation and the ends of the sheetrock panels, secured the drop cloth with firewood and grabbed the old broom the workers abandoned on the wood pile to push as much of the swelling puddle away as possible before it overtook the end of the piled up panels, drooping under their own considerable weight.
The sun has just come out, the sky has cleared, and I must mark the lengths on the metal framing members for my husband to cut this evening. He promised to come home as early as possible to do that, and I am not -- surprise, surprise -- ready.
I spent all day avoiding cleaning up the piles of diarrhea left by one of the dogs during the night on the living room wool rug that I discovered when I nearly stepped in the largest, on my way to sit down and start my work this morning with my coffee in hand. Rapide, I suspect. A new symptom to report to the vet if any of the others return.
I considered running to IKEA for a new rug, if they had another one just like this one, hoping my husband wouldn't notice -- no explanation required or defense to mount --, but then I realized it would only happen on the new one. And I want a lovely large woolen kilim.
Right. That's the day I build the dog house.
What an inglorious feeling, I'm procrastinating again.
....
Articles
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire