|That frog takes up so much real estate.|
Things are starting to look up. (And not just because we're crammed into the top floor of our house.)
Yesterday I featured a [poorly lit] photo array of my new window seat. It's simply glorious. It marks one of the few occasions where we've added something to this home because it would look nice or because it is time to no longer look like a crack den. (More like a crack palace!)
So often we're renovating and fixing the house because of "structural issues" or "safety reasons."
But on Tuesday? We hired people to come and rip out the front of our house (not to be confused with the people we've hired to come and rip out the downstairs of our house) because we've [I've] decided it was high time to have something pretty happen here. Granted, we [I] made this decision well before SewageGate 2012...but since we had already paid the deposit, new window it is!
There were a few dark moments on Tuesday, however. For starters, since the plumbers had taped plastic sheeting up the stairwell from the lower level (and over the side door), and since the window guys had done the same to the front door and living room- we were trapped inside a plastic rectangle.
I do not, as a rule, thrive under conditions best described as Outbreak-esque.
The jackhammering and drilling coming from ALL SIDES was a bit...much. Susannah's cheeks, yet again, threatened to vibrate off of her face. Nora, at one point, screamed until she was purple- and I couldn't even hear her.
And, at one point, the lower level's plastic sheeting slipped- and in an instant, the entirety of the main floor was coated in a thick layer of concrete dust. The biggest casualty was the enormous vat of stewed pears and apples that I had cooked for Suzy's consumption this week. (Now she may actually have consumption. Awesome.)
But- and this cannot be stated enough- THE WINDOW IS AWESOME.
This is the window where I (miraculously showered and all) shall sit and read and have a drink and take a nap and not smell sewage and not have to explain- yet again- that the men were not done jackhammering.
Because they will be done. The jackhammering has to stop. (After awhile it's just, like, dirt. Right?) And when this noise and mayhem and filth ceases...I will be on my window seat.
That is, if I can convince Nora to lemme have a turn.