Yesterday Banjo Man woke me at 6:30 yelling, “Get up! The counter guy is here!”
I didn’t think so. He comes from an hour and a half away, in Massachusetts. But I staggered out of bed and found my robe to check it out for myself.
It was the lumber company delivering three cabinet doors to replace the defective ones.
Because I was up so early, I actually wrote my phone number on a FOR SALE sign I bought at Walmart last week. I taped it onto the windshield of my mother’s car. That poor Toyota Camry would not hold a charge and we were all–Glen, my brother, my sister-in-law and I—tired of calling AAA. We rarely drove it. I’d been intending to sell it for months, but I wanted to time it so that AAA would charge the battery (or put in a new one), there would not be a cold snap, there would be no construction workers’ trucks in the driveway and it would be a weekend when I could list it on Craigslist.
Slapping the FOR SALE sign on was my commitment to calling AAA on Friday and hopefully selling it this coming weekend. It was parked right in front of our back door, next to the dumpster.
At 9:00 the electricians returned to hang the chandeliers. This would prove to be a nightmare for them and the mysteries of the wiring would continue off an on until after 6 PM.
Everyone looked askance at my fancy crystal island light until it was lit up and then the consensus was that it was “really cool”.
One of the most exciting things–and there were a number of them–yesterday was the centering of the light over my sink, smack dab in the middle of the window.
I’ll be happily patching that hole later on this morning. It’s a thrill every time I look at that centered light.
The counter installer arrived around 11 and–gasp–the installation went beautifully. “Dana” was afraid I was still upset over last week’s fiasco and I had to assure him that I was fine and didn’t hold a grudge. The glue stunk up the place, sending the electricians to the basement to work on things down there.
When they returned, I kept sweeping and cleaning, discussing fixture heights and light switches and music. There was lots of chit chat going on. The sun was shining.
No one seemed too upset when they discovered I’d tossed their circular drywall drill attachments into the garbage box. I thought they were old lighting boxes. They forgave me.
Around 4:00 Banjo Man came upstairs to tell me that one of the boys was interested in Mom’s car. I lowered the price and typed up a bill of sale, just in case.
By 6:30 last night, the car was sold, the lights were in, the wiring had been figured out (after an intense couple of hours) and Banjo Man and I were reeling from exhaustion.
As he said, he was so tired he felt as if he’d done all the work himself. I felt the same way. We were too tired to eat. Banjo Man had a bowl of cereal. My dinner consisted of tequila and potato chips.
Don’t judge me. I’ll cry.
We watched a silly British comedy, DEATH AT A FUNERAL, and the first episode of “True Detective” before staggering off to bed.
Here are the new recessed lights in my office. No more industrial lights hanging from the ceiling! No more extension cords draped over windows and doors!
Today I am washing floors, cleaning cupboards and unpacking more boxes. The contractor is going to come by and hopefully he’ll have good news for me about when the back splash will be installed and if the plumber will hook up the sink and dishwasher this weekend.
It will be nice to have a sink again.