As any half-way decent carpenter worth his salt will tell you, the first part of any remodeling project is demolition. Actually no--I tell a lie. Surely a good carpenter would, at this point, clear his throat and gently remind me that before the demolition the site must be cleared. But we are not in the habit of employing good carpenters, are we? This is Mister and his father we're talking about, and these are fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants kinds of builders. Fuck protocal. Let's get the job DONE! We're talking about the man who carved a hole in the ceiling directly over the computer without bothering to move the thing or even cover it with a sheet, just because, well, the roof was on and by Christ he needed to get upstairs!. Whatever. It's really not the point. The point is, I got to do a little demolition yesterday. And it was fun.
While I was strickly forbidden from slamming any holes in the walls just yet, it was nonetheless very absorbing and empowering work. I even got to use my swank, girly tools with the pink handles that my mother sent me for my birthday. How cool am I?
Actually--ahem--not very. All I managed was to disassemble three cheapy, free-standing, IKEA-esque wardrobes that were standing in the way of the real work. And while Michelle has laid claim to the smaller of the three, in the interest of full disclosure, I feel I should point out that the bottom of the middle drawer is warped and dogdey from wet raingear having been stuffed in it at some point in its life, the doors are misaligned and slighty askew cuz' it's so damn cheap, and the rod was held in place by duct tape and electrical wire (I forget why). So there. Can't say I didn't warn you. Not my fault you only occasionally take the time to read me......
Rain has been forecast for the entire week, so it seems that I will be hostessing a birthday party in the midst of our demolition. We were hoping we'd get a nice day for Missy's birthday so we could have a picnic at the lake--roast some hotdogs and marshmallows, maybe a little scavanger hunt for the kids--such a nice idea once again foiled by shitty weather. Not to worry. The kids really don't give a damn about the mess, and the parents have been warned to disregard the worst of the clutter; simply step over the more trifling bits. It'll be fine. Fun maybe. And this new plan comes with the added advantage of extra hands to move the piano out of the construction zone.