We’re just receiving confirmation that all the Suck that has disappeared from my life has been smeared onto friends, which really isn’t fair. I fear for those who are out of the country. Or perhaps this is the best way to avoid it.
This is your warning.
Have I told you about the STUFs?
Instead of regular insulation, our home has ground up bits of newspaper.
This horrid substance was blown into the side of the house, and contractors say it works much better than that pink stuff the panther sells.
However, when you remove lath and plaster, when released, the STUF, which has been compressed between the wall studs for several decades, goes awry.
Although it looks relatively contained here,** the STUFs get everywhere. In your lungs, in thick piles on the floor, the kitchen counter, the ceiling fan. The STUF is unstoppable. A small area of stuff in the walls can become an 8-foot pile of STUF on the floor. We have a habit of writing STUF in the layers of STUF on the coffee table. Similar to the way people write “WASH ME” on dirty cars. Maybel LOVES to sit in the STUF. It should be noted in her profile.
Anyway, I’m happy to say that although we have no pictures to prove it, the STUF is, for the most part, tamed. We have removed it and re-insulated and drywalled this entire wall in our house. Only a small patch upstairs where the chimney was left to conquer.
Also of note, I am able to walk up the stairs onto a temporary landing. Before, I had stairs that met a chasm at the second story of our home. In other words, we got a lot done this weekend.
** Also pictured is the hole where the mystery cat pokes his head up from a ledge in the basement. The good news is that Maybel has learned a new command. “Get that cat” means “go run and stick your head in the hole,” which is hilarious.
I write this with two baby deer playing in the woods. I just had some more ice cream. It has been unnervingly beautiful all weekend. We visited Seth’s grandparents. I …
We went to a church this morning at Kenyon College that reminds me (hold your breath) of our church in Athens. Remember the one? It was small, with a mix of college and old-timers, with a really energetic pastor ‘on loan’ from New York.
I wish I had a photo of this guy.
He’s a mix of Kramer, stereotypical Jewish dude and Italian mobster. Very strange. Basically, imagine Yiddish words in an Italian accent with exaggerated mannerisms. It’s enough to keep the focus off the sermon at times.
We attended another First Friday — notably more pleasant than the first — and toured Knox County’s old Buckeye Candy & Tobacco Company Building. On the tour, they showed plans for this exciting project.
Bringing the weekend full circle, while at a lunch after service in the basement of the church, we were talking to Some Dude Called Mark about our first impressions of Knox County, and when we mentioned the project, he was like “yeah, I own that building.”
He also has lunch recently with Zach Space, but was a financial contributor to Bob Ney. What the hell is going on.
Did you know Knox County does not have ONE homeless shelter?
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