I love October. The weather is cool. Dead people are around. Everything is creepy in a homey way. I am a little nervous but mostly excited about the October project. It’s my first serialized thingamabob (holy shit, people, thingamabob is in Spellcheck. While Spellcheck is not. Is Spellcheck from the 40s?) and I’m kind of excited to see how it goes.
I have to call the contractor today and see when he can come do the den. That’s an exciting relief and a little stressful. I’m just afraid the demolition is going to be a bear. But I want to have that room done before Thanksgiving both because that ceiling is a visible mess and because I need to stick people in there to play solitaire on that computer when they’re being giant babies during the holidays. And I emphasize “need.” And I can’t have the ceiling caving in on loved ones, again, no matter how obnoxious they’re being.
We spent Saturday getting the big stuff back in the living room. It honestly makes me want to cry. It’s weird, but it would have been emotionally easier on me to just throw everything out except for the irreplaceable art and get all new. But, of course, that’s not an option. So, everything has to be wiped down and cleaned off. Eventually, I just started tossing shit I had no idea how to clean. I told the Butcher, if it’s missing, just assume it’s gone. And I should have worn a mask to do it, because breathing in that shit is terrible for you.
But we didn’t. There’s not a whole lot left to be done. We have to figure out some way to clean a couple of chairs and get them back in, get the hall tree back in and the stuff that was on it cleaned and on it, and the curtains hung. It’s not that bad. I’d rather do just about anything other than that, though. Plus, it means facing that some stuff is ruined. The awesome rocking chair? Not fixable. Now a pile of ashes. The chair that was my grandma’s? Not fixable. Now a pile of ashes. We can’t get the stereo equipment to work, but we’re hopeful that someone can come see if it’s salvageable. I guess the thing is not just that everything is so very dirty and some things are broken. It’s that you have to face, repeatedly, that this bad thing happened.
You can’t just let it recede into memory yet. You’re still in the immediate aftermath.
Thank the gods that we won’t have to go through that in the den.
Holy shit. Knock on wood.
Maybe can that canned air to blow into stereo and other electronic equipment?
And, dammit woman, wear a mask! All people should be wearing masks around all that loose insulation, but especially people known to not have the sturdiest of lungs. you should seriously consider wearing a mask whenever you’re home during the work they do on the den. I’m rather glad that you happen to sleep in a mask.
I’m not sure if it’s just dirt that’s causing it not to work or if things got broken.