Today I love being properly floored, or rather, properly subfloored. I love that we worked together to get the rather tricky bits of the front hall insulated and subfloored and that space goes madly off in all directions and has way more corners than a room its size has any right to have. I love that we still got it done despite its propensity to have more fiddly bits of wall that go for tiny lengths and then go off in other directions only to come back around again mere inches further on. I love that our front hall is an interesting place to be and once it is floored it will be fine and welcoming but until that is done I am going to grumble good-naturedly about it. I love that tomorrow I will finish up one last little bit of electrical work in the ceiling and then I’ll shuffle things around in the living room and get ready to patch the ceiling there and prep it for finish. I love that the day after that the trim is going in around the kitchen cupboards and that leaves only one minor bit of plumbing and the tile work to do before the ceiling gets finished and the pendant lights go in. I love how close things are to being finished, and how much closer we get almost every day.
Today I love the number of people I know who understand that there is only one human race and that skin color is a heritable ability, or lack there of, to produce melanin, that we are all descendants of the same ancestors and that we all have rights. I love the people who succinctly refute those who counter “black lives matter” with “all lives matter” by pointing out that if all lives matter we need to start making black lives matter as much as other lives do.
Today I love that it will be summer warm again tomorrow even though it is not summer yet. I love that I will be putting my drawer inserts in on Wednesday while the cupboards are being trimmed and then my knives will have a home in the kitchen again, YAY!. I love that I am reading Margaret Atwood’s Alias Grace this week, and finding it compelling. I love that my reading preferences jump all over the spectrum. I love that I write almost as fast as I read because that sounds impressive, though that just means I’m a slow reader. I love that tomorrow we will eat the last of the last batch of oatmeal, and I love that because that means tomorrow I get to make oatmeal on my new cook top and I admit that I’m more excited about that than I likely should be as an adult.
Today I love pouring coffee down my throat to charge myself up and keep me going steadily on the sub flooring of the crazy cornered front hall.