So it ends

The weekend ended, but we are not even close to finished. I am at work resting from my Labor Day weekend.

Rather than a day by day info-drag, I’ll hit the highlights or is that lowlights?

  • Removing warped smelly plywood requires chopping into the wood and pulling nails followed by two grown men and one weaker but highly motivated woman prying it up with crowbars. Repeat process for each piece. There are five. Four down, one to go.
  • It is wise to wear not only a head band but long sleeves, disposable jeans, and a hat when crawling under a house to cut out insulation and apply Kilz paint to the moldy joists. Safety glasses are a plus if you don’t want fuzzy insulation and paint in your eyelashes and contact lenses.
  • A word of advice in case this inspires you to have this much fun on your next vacation– the 17th time you strike your head on a steel beam it hurts as bad as the first time. Wait. That’s not advice, that’s a heads up (ouch).
  • White paint in greying hair is barely noticable.
  • I twisted my left knee, received another sliver, bandaged my big toe, had to cut down two fingernails (dang!) and squished Stan’s finger in the plywood.
  • Stan fell through the floor trying to break his leg. What he won’t do to stay home. He failed on the break but managed to produce a hoog, massive goose-egg. Swelling is down, floor joist print is visible. Poor baby. No, I did not swing a 2×4 at him. Too tired. Where’s the camera?

I now understand why old people stoop, insist on railings, and shuffle. Balance, honey, balance.

Praise God for dry ground, good weather, our good friends Jim and Nancy who donated a Saturday and steaks, and Charles and Greta who invited us to their house for supper last night. We are blessed.

Continuing the Katrina newswatch, puzzle pieces are still being discovered, personal stories are being told. Casting blame where there apparently is none and demanding accountability won’t help. Give and pray. And…..there were no sharks in the streets.

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