We really haven’t made any progress on the cottage lately. If the weather doesn’t break I suspect that situation won’t change in the near future.
A few weeks ago, a member of the family who used to own this place said “So I hear you’re rebuilding the house.” That’s pretty much the case.
I am getting some little things done. Yesterday, for the first time, I changed the filter on the pump. This may not sound like much, and admittedly it’s not brain surgery, but at least it’s proof I can do it.
There was a period of time I wasn’t sure I could – why do men tighten things to the point that it requires months of steroids to unscrew them again?
There was an unreasonable amount of time spent yesterday looking for Duff. The cats usually come when I call their names – unless, of course, they think I have ulterior motives involving a cage in the back of the car and a nightmarish trip across the country.
I went looking for the two of them because the front door had been left open and it seemed wise to check. Fergus was easy. No Duff.
I went through this place 5 times. I even went around the outside and looked in all the underbrush, beneath the car and the dump trailer. No cat.
Finally, after moving most of the stuff being stored upstairs, there was a glimpse of him in the farthest corner of the most obstructed closet. This face tells you everything you need to know about their level of support for the current project.