As I sit here typing away on my blog, I can accutely hear the sound of a drill driving its way through my basement wall. The people who moved my air conditioner last fall so the basement waterproofing could be done have returned to put it back in place. Except the ground there is still too soft so they've decided it's best to reinstall it in a slightly different spot which requires a new hole in the wall.
It's true that I've accomplished miracles in the 2 1/2 weeks that I've been home but, to be honest, it's mainly hired help who have done most of the work. I couldn't live without my handyman anymore. He's sort of taken over the chores my husband used to do and most of which I'm not capable of doing (or just don't want to do).
I'm not complaining or boasting but I am getting things done around here in one way or another and, for once, feel as though I'm on top of the situation. Since my husband passed away I've been flying by the seat of my pants, trying to stay ahead of the things that needed done but also dealing with the unexpected. It's not easy being the only one in the house to take charge. For the most part, I'm always hoping the workmen I deal with are honest because I know it's pathetically apparent that I don't have a clue. But I'm doing the best I can until I have to move on.
Even if it's not my physical labor getting things in order, it's still a darned nice feeling to see work accomplished.
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