That Plastic Wrap Phase
A few short posts ago I mentioned we’d finally reached “peak mayhem”. Oh what a silly, silly boy I become when I get stuck inside the famous wishful thinking loop. The floor installers rang the doorbell at 6:50 AM this morning. Yesterday the baseboards needed to be removed from the girls’ bedroom, one of the beds had to be dismantled and stored downstairs—reverse Ikea style—ditto with their bookcase, their dresser. Apart from the very empty main floor, the entire house now looks like a hoarder’s wet dream. And while the big pieces are certainly a challenge (there IS a limit to storage space eventually), it’s the smaller stuff that kills. So. Much. Small. Crap.
I know this is bitching with my stomach extremely full, first world problems that don’t amount to much in the grand scheme of the universe; but guys, it still really needs to end soon. If surroundings impact our psychological state in any way...let’s just say there’s a reason I’m having trouble concentrating this summer. Part of the reason anyway.
The images below were shot during the plastic wrap interlude, circa summer 2019. Right after demolition and right before plastering.
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green...
Ok, monochrome. Whatev ;)
The air suddenly smells of sawdust.
Change will come.