My ancient damask, the Four Seasons Rose, is giving me a nice flush of flowers.
Mallow.
Clover.
Our master bathroom, rather a sizeable room, is a demolition zone. Yesterday the carpenter took a jackhammer to the poured concrete floor of the shower we're replacing. Clouds of choking dust. The work area is on the floor directly above my desk (English antique, mahogany, leather top) and desktop computer, keyboard, monitor, printers, external hard drive, etc. I tried not to think about what would happen if the jackhammer came through the ceiling. I did move my treasured, and irreplaceable, print of the Duchess from its place on the wall.
After an afternoon of constant noise and intentional destruction, my ceiling remains intact, and the chunks of concrete have been taken away.
As with most renovations, we'll inevitably end up doing more than we bargained for. It appears fresh tiling of the entire bathroom floor will be desirable, if not required, and a new bead board surround for the jacuzzi to replace its tiles. Okay. I don't really mind choosing new tile, especially if it's white and I can find a nice pattern for a contrasting backsplash.
The Federal Government in its wisdom (not!) did not include my county as a recipient of disaster relief monies, despite the fact that two of the towns I represent have tornado damage and are saddled with significant costs due to emergency response and debris removal.
When I returned to the Lodge yesterday, before and after my mandolin lesson, I spent time on the phone with the Governor's office, the local newspaper (they phoned for my reaction), and various distressed constituents. There may still be hope, and I'm trying to be optimistic--which is the essence of my brief quote in the morning newspaper.
All we can do now is lobby the President.
As of this morning, I've lost 20 lbs. I'm now done. This is my plateau. Henceforth, it's all about stability, maintaining my new and improved weight.
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