Friday, June 13, 2014

Friday the 13th

Friday the 13th is on a Friday this month. It's a full moon as well, which means it's the day for teenagers everywhere to run off into the woods, consume massive amounts of alcohol, lose their virginity, then be gruesomely murdered. By a werewolf.

I'm doing this because right now it's raining. Again. Or maybe I should say, "Still." At least all our transplants are loving this weather. Everything seems to have taken hold and is doing well. We've made some other changes in between rainstorms, but we haven't had a chance to take any pictures. So instead, here's what our view from our porch has been for the last few days:

Last weekend, we had enough time and dry weather to finally get the coat closet roughed in enough for us to start using it. We still need something smaller for the paper recycling (the big blue thing sticking out in the room), and the whole Florida room needs paint and paneling, but for now, it'll do:

That mostly clears out the closet part of our pantry/hall closet. Because our walls are nothing but 2x2's and paneling, I wasn't able to put up the shelf and rod correctly when we first moved in; now with it mostly empty, we're going to beef up the wall the rod and shelf are attached to and position the brackets correctly. If the rain gives us a break, we can probably get that cranked out this weekend. (Big "if" at this point.) Then most of my clothes will get moved out of the bedroom closet into the hall closet, making the bedroom closet somewhat less crammed full. Fun, fun, fun!

Yesterday, I spent most of the day on the road, driving back over to Lake Mary to pick up the new lenses for my glasses, drop off/pick up stuff for Debbie at her office, and hit one of my doctors for my quarterly check-up. News was less than ideal, which, in keeping with our wonderful medical-industrial complex, means spending more money I don't have just to confirm that indeed, I'm gonna die someday, just like everyone else. (I don't recall if I ever said, but I have yet-another chronic, life-shortening disease. No treatment needed for decades, but it must be constantly tracked. For reasons. Please hand your credit card to the lady behind the window. See you in three months.)

Anyway, it's lunch time.

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