As the house creeps closer to being ready for us, I am filling in all the details in my imagination. What will I toss, and what will I bring? The old toaster oven? The microwave? Perhaps it is time for them to go. I want to give away the bbq, as there is no place for it, and truthfully, I was afraid to use it. It has barely been touched. Unlike most men, R wanted nothing to do with it, and I think Jeremy feels the same. Besides, in his apartment, shared with three others, there is no room for it, and he will be moving into our new place next year, into the little bachelor's pad downstairs, a small bedroom and bath, with a neat little patio off the room. It's too small to cram in that bbq, and besides, we're right across from the pool, which has bbqs of its own.
So if anyone close wants that bbq, please let me know. You'll have to come and get it, but you are welcome to it.
Sickness seems to be haunting the place among the workmen. The handyman, Dan, has a terrible flu. He smokes and is overweight, so it has hit him hard. He asked me how I stay so healthy. I told him yoga. He isn't going to do that.
The floor guy spoke to me yesterday. He has a bowel obstruction, a tumor. He had an emergency procedure yesterday to remove it, and it may be cancer. Besides that, he is rather addled by a car accident, and perhaps by the chemicals he uses in his job everyday.
I cannot be concerned about my house when the people working on it are so ill. I just hope they are okay.