Monday, April 17, 2006

Feast Your Eyes

Because we won't be able to cook any food in our kitchen for a few weeks now.

Lovely, eh?

We just picked out floor tile tonight. Verona White. Sounds like a comic book heroine.

Last night we missed our fix while we were at Easter dinner, so tonight we ran an extension cord over from the dining area--see that farthest dark hole in the wall? that's what's left of our breaker box--to power up the Dish box and the TV so we could see Leo's funeral. Not nearly so moving to me as the time they left him to die in the woods Camp David, but sad when I'm away from the show, thinking about the actor.

We're grateful for all that he gave us while he was here--although we maybe curse him for being so good, which is part of the reason that we're hooked on this crack.

It's amazing, though, how we can be so completely transported out of the disaster zone that our house has become--mind the table saw as you come around the couch, there--through a story and characters who we have come to know and love.

For a few minutes, it's as if all that destruction and chaos behind the couch is no longer there, that when I get up to get a glass of water, my feet will slide smoothly from the Tundra flooring onto our comic book heroine tile, through the new doorway from the living room.

Instead we've got a bucket of drywall mud, a few score boxes of cabinet parts, and loose wires hanging out of holes in the walls . . . "the stuff that dreams are made of."

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