Yes, the remodel is still going. The going is slow, but I have three turtle tatts and only one hare, so you know where I fall on that side of the story. It's always functional--we won't starve for lack of ability to cook. And while it might be easy to get frustrated at the lack of speed in the process of the remodel, I can't help but think it's a larger metaphor for what's going on in my life.
For anyone who had never been to my house before the wall came down, (and yes, there were Gorbachev jokes) you'll just have to imagine how dark and small the dining room felt. Now, with the wall between the kitchen and dining room out there's an open run through the entire south side of the house. Natural light at the dining room table is no longer a dream.
Just getting the wall down was quite a feat, as the house was built in 1925, when lathe and plaster was the norm. I knew that hanging pictures was a chore, but I didn't appreciate the dusty, choking mess of ripping into that beast. Man Friend was completely in charge; he kept saying, "There is an art to demo."
I had TV images of home improvement shows with sledge hammers and wrecking balls in mind when I heard demo. I was afraid. New motto? #trustmanfriend
I never contemplated the finesse of an artisan in relation to doing a demo. I was thinking Shaq when I should have been thinking Grant Hill.
We're both in states of change, Man Friend and I, and I think it may result in a huge time of growth for each of us. If we're lucky, our relationship will be included. I guess we're both doing some life demo and my usual bull in a china shop approach to change seems extreme and a bit immature when I remember that there is an art to demo.
