Junkyard

Please forgive my absence, but it has not been the best of weeks. A dear friend e-mailed me and asked how I was doing. How am I doing I replied, "well let's see, both of my air conditioners went out, my old dear canine friend Miss Biggs was diagnosed with cancer and I (nearly) passed out in the lobby of one of my clients' spaces. Not a good week! Now I know Cindy Allen didn't ask me to blog about my state of mind and body but I just had to get it out. Okay, if I have your sympathy I will continue my litany of contractor and house complaints.

Can't comment too much on the progress of the house as I haven't been there in a couple of weeks. If the gods see fit, I will be there Thursday and will either be throwing Mitch over the cliff or scheduling dates with him to deliver my kitchen cabinets and Electrolux appliances. Oh, how I hope it's the latter. I must figure out a strategy if Mitch doesn't meet the September 1 move-in date. Do I negotiate a contract to have his knees broken, hang his image from a giant hammer at the crest of Brokeback Mountain, or just sit and listen to the many "I told you so, you should have listen to me a long time ago and gotten someone else"? I don't want to resort to such drastic measures, but you know what they say about drastic times...

If for no other reason than to take pictures, I will definitely go to the house. I don't have enough words to keep this blog going without visual aid. If there is nothing new to document (which I don't think there is) I can take some lovely snap shops of the wildflowers growing amongst the debris left by everyone's favorite G.C. Oh, did I forget to mention the few visitors that have gone to see the house have not only commented on the lack of progress, but that the site looks like a junk yard. Maybe I could get some rusted cars and call it an art installation.