(no subject)
Sep. 9th, 2011 10:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
botiasI have a bad head cold. So do all three boys, and the Mister. My kids don't go to school, but we always reap the benefits of suddenly throwing together hundreds of young people, some in their hooking up years, others in the picking one another's noses stage, and especially in the case of the colleges, gathered from all over the world.
I celebrated by painting my tenant's garage. This job is complicated 1) by the fact that the garage has been neglected so long that it really ought only to be torn down. Any repair job seems to balloon into replacing half of the structure, and 2) by the fact that the garage was built in less regulated times directly on the property line so that the south face can only be accessed by entering the yard of the hoarding cat ladies next door. Noisy truck guy has been living in their yard and in his truck, and has been slowly pushing back the brambles and junk, and fulfilling their senile hoarder dictates with a kind of weary patience. Thanks to his presence and efforts, we have a rare window of access and quasi permission, which mistaken intelligence led me to believe was going to away forever by Saturday. So there we were, dizzy and mouth-breathing, and painting and tearing out rotted wood. The weather was lovely though, and I'm thrilled at the progress we've made. I've been known to try and find annoying jobs to do when I'm sick, reasoning that I'm miserable anyway, and this fits the bill.
It's the sort of color where some people have said it's a pretty blue, and others say it's a spiffy shade of purple, and the Mister just says nothing at all.
I celebrated by painting my tenant's garage. This job is complicated 1) by the fact that the garage has been neglected so long that it really ought only to be torn down. Any repair job seems to balloon into replacing half of the structure, and 2) by the fact that the garage was built in less regulated times directly on the property line so that the south face can only be accessed by entering the yard of the hoarding cat ladies next door. Noisy truck guy has been living in their yard and in his truck, and has been slowly pushing back the brambles and junk, and fulfilling their senile hoarder dictates with a kind of weary patience. Thanks to his presence and efforts, we have a rare window of access and quasi permission, which mistaken intelligence led me to believe was going to away forever by Saturday. So there we were, dizzy and mouth-breathing, and painting and tearing out rotted wood. The weather was lovely though, and I'm thrilled at the progress we've made. I've been known to try and find annoying jobs to do when I'm sick, reasoning that I'm miserable anyway, and this fits the bill.
It's the sort of color where some people have said it's a pretty blue, and others say it's a spiffy shade of purple, and the Mister just says nothing at all.
