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Day 8 of the 30-day Coachhouse Final Quest

May 30, 2022 Just call me Sisyphus.

I seemed to have spent my weekend moving things from one place to the next to the next to the next and back again. In the garage I am moving things out in the mornings to make way for all of us needing to work in there, and back in at night to keep things dry and safe. Things like kayaks, toilets, table saws, large oak doors, bags of cement and plaster, buckets of stones and shims, pieces of lumber, bundles of corner bead, horses, handtools and random tubs of crap.


I'm moving dirt from one place to the next, and then back again. I'm moving literal stones from one corner to the next to create space in the hole and dirt pile filled yard for the plumbers today, and back for the electrician tomorrow. Dirt is getting taken out, and dirt is about to be brought in. I spent hours during the weekend Moving. Dirt.


I also spent a good deal of the weekend waiting for people. That's a good time, no? I waited for phone calls, I waited for contractors, I waited for deliveries, I waited counter people at every store I happened across. After spending 90 minutes moving things to make space for a person, waiting 4 hours for said person to arrive with the inability to actually start a project on the long list is just killing me.


In between the moving and the waiting I managed to knock out some chalking of the windows, planning of the bathroom tile, work on the pantry and I (we) ALMOST finished the hang of the first custom oak door that I made. ALMOST. The steps in that process are not for the weak of constitution. I'll do a rundown in a later post.


My hands hurt, by back hurts, my feet hurt, my arms hurt, my legs hurt. I hurt. I spent the best 90 minutes of the weekend with my 'Swell Sisters singing and drinking a little bubbly for our first rehearsal in 6 months. Ah- that was the good stuff!

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