domicile.v.1.5

Tired.

*sighs*

Pain.

*cracks neck and back*

Sand in every intimate nook and cranny of my body.

*dusts off to no avail*

That pretty much sums up my physical and mental states right now, and likely for the next few weeks. Lady and I have taken possession of the house and are working feverishly to complete a specific task list before mid-October so we can move our stuff, and ourselves in. The list includes painting every paintable surface, grounding every receptacle, wiring a few new receptacles and lights, and running communication wires — telephone, Ethernet and cable-tv to be precise. Other tasks to be done (but not by us) include alarm installation and replacing the power fuse panels with breaker mains.

I’ve been crawling around under the house like a Viet Cong tunnel-rat, running wires to all of the outlets in the house in an effort to ground them to protect my electronics and myself. The house is raised, and the previous owners had done a marvelous job of laying down 10 mil sheeting under there and having sand pumped in. The net result is a clean and dry environment to work in — a refreshing change from the rest of the houses in New Orleans I’ve worked under.

Unfortunately, sand is prone to get pretty much everywhere it can within your clothes, hair and anywhere else not hermetically sealed on your body. It also has a very fine texture, so it sticks to your skin, especially if you’ve been sweating. There are also spots where I must crawl under pipes, sometimes using my feet to push me along while laying on my back. Did you know that the back pockets of jeans make wonderful scoop shovels? The last time I had to undress in the shower was over thirteen years ago when I would attend The Rocky Horror Picture Show twice a weekend, every weekend for several years, and that was to shake the rice out of my underwear (you young-uns probably have no idea what I’m talking about).

There is 36" of space in some spots to work in, but that still means spending hours at a time hunched over or crawling on elbows and knees. It’s finally starting to take a toll on my back after doing it for four days in a row. I woke up this morning with the distinct feeling that several of my vertebrae had fused. They’re just now settling down into a sharp throbbing pain.

Joy.

Lady has spent days prepping the walls for painting and will get a start on them very soon. I don’t envy her that job, as it’s as much a pain-in-the-ass as my "underground railroad" is. Three coats of paint — one of primer and two of color — on every surface of every room (minus the floor and woodwork) except the den, which has paneling. I’m quite sure that her back will be killing her before long. I have tried to make the job easier by getting her a Power Roller to help speed things along (and once more, I live up to my "Stuff" namesake).

We did, however, take a break from our toils this weekend to visit with the ever distant GonzO and Heather who were in town from far west for Michelle and Raul’s wedding. As Snap points out, we’d sweat during the day, clean ourselves up, and hang out and party all night long. We did the same for the day of the wedding. We were exhausted, but it was so worth it. It’s always a delight and joy to hang out with GonzO and Heather when they’re in town. They make the otherwise fantastic rogue’s gallery we have here locally even more complete. Cheers to you guys, and I can’t wait until you’re permanent residents down here in this sweaty dungeon once again. I’m going to confiscate and destroy your continental passports, and you’ll never be able to leave again. So there.

We never have any fun with you guys.

We also had a gaggle of the local crew (and not-so-local crew) over to the house to see it mid-construction. I was, and still am, amazed at the honest-to-$diety interest that everyone showed for the house. I thought for sure that I would get the same glazed look that people get when parents start talking about their kids to non-parents, but no. Everyone wanted to know more, and to poke around in every deep, dark recess of the house to see more. Sancho even went so far as to slip under the house and crawl around like a hyperactive salamander for a few minutes. It pleases me to no end to know that folks are happy for us, and our new home. It’s likely to be ground zero for some memorable get-togethers (more likely hard-to-remember afterwards get-togethers).

Back to Michelle and Raul’s wedding.

It was fantastic, and everything a good wedding should be. It was not held in a church, but instead in neutral territory. The reception was held right there, commencing as soon as the ceremony was over — no traveling from one place to another. The ceremony itself was simple, sweet and elegant, performed by someone close to the hearts of the bride and groom. Michelle was stunning in her gown and Raul was handsome in his tuxedo. Everyone looked and played nice. The food was superb. What more could you ask for on such an important day?

Congratulations you two. Safe journey on this, the next portion of your lives together. I’m extremely happy for you both.

Ah well. I guess it’s time to return to the sand mines. When you see me in my spinal brace, be sure to remind me how wonderful this house is.

DeJockamo would have wanted it that way.

Yo.