Demolition done; on to reconstruction

Okay, the hard part is done. Yesterday morning I finished sanding the ceiling and walls of the kitchen. I've got my fingers crossed that the ceiling won't look too patched up once we put a couple of coats of paint on it. And if it does... well, tough. We can re-do it next year.

Patching things up on 08 May 2008

I never thought I would be doing this kind of work at this age. I was an academic, and then white-collar for years, and then collarless for many more, because we often just wore T-shirts and jeans when I worked in Silicon Valley. And now, in retirement, I find myself doing more physical labor than ever before, renovating the house and tilling the garden. Toting bales. Waving a feather duster around. Maybe it will keep me young.

You empty the cabinets and before can say
Jack Sprat! they fill up again.

This is the life we chose when we moved to Saint-Aignan and stopped "working for the man." Freedom has its price, I guess, in blood, sweat, and tears. And plaster dust. Mud under your fingernails. Insect bites. Fortunately, work expands to fill the time available. So we're never bored and never really all that busy.