Wednesday, June 08, 2016

Construction starts--big doings at my house

 It’s been months—early February, I think—since we applied for a building permit to remodel the garage apartment. Since then, people continually ask when we’re beginning construction. Today I can officially say construction has begun! Once again I wanted a celebration, but it wasn’t. When I woke up this morning, Jordan told me there were already workmen out back. And soon there was a swarm of them—carpenters, electricians, plumbers, and I don’t know who else.

Jordan inspected before she went to work and said they’d already made a mess. Tonight, she said, “Just don’t go out there.” The electrician had dug a trench across the yard to bury wires. She is really enjoying this process and has become sort of an assistant contractor. She informed me tonight that she and Lewis are on the same page—but they both consult with me, so all is well.

Jacob would like to be an assistant contractor—he went out to inspect when he got home from golf camp and came back to announce, “They’re all crazy out there.”

I doubt I can post pictures every day, but here are some demolition and exterior pictures.


Cottage as seen from my deck

Driveway first day, with trash

Jordan and Lewis celebrating
The other highlight of my day—maybe that’s the wrong word—was an MRI on my foot. I didn’t anticipate any unpleasantness, since I was sure this would be foot-first rather than a head-in procedure, and it was. But it wasn’t long before my foot began to ache, my butt hurt, and I was cold, even with the light blanket provided. The technician would come on my earphones and tell me how long the next series of sounds would last—seemed interminable, but I wasn’t about to cry “Uncle” once I was halfway into the procedure.

I’m truly hoping that this is the first step to recovery. I thought the foot was better today, but when I had to walk several feet from car to walker and then into the MRI room because the metal walker can’t go near the magnetic beast, I decided it may not be better. It sure hurts. My mind goes wild imagining the next course of action—orthopedic specialist? Who knows? Not surgery I hope. But I guess my best course is to continue trying to be patient. Glad to report that after a sleepless night, my disposition and spirits have improved.

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