I'm feeling like I'm in the middle of moving apartments. Even though I'm not actually going anywhere, most of the stuff in my life has had to be moved, boxed up, stored under plastic sheets, and crammed into whatever free space I can find. (Bitch, bitch, bitch.)
Maybe I can win a bet or something with these pictures, sometime: "No way man, my house was _way_ more trashed than yours!"
Click on the thumbnails to see the full size image.
My guest bedroom (also workshop, jam space, and weirding chamber) has been entirely cleared, so that Ralph can set up his work space here. Highlights: the very studly table saw, and a brand new nail gun powered by combustible gas cartridge _and_ battery.
Everything that was in the guest bedroom is now out on the roof deck, covered with plastic sheeting against rain.
A weird pall is cast by smoke from forest fires in Quebec.
My bedroom, crammed with all the stuff that used to live in the big old closet. No way all this crud is going to fit in the new little closet. Serious weeding is in order.
The living room chairs can stay in the general area, but the stereo rack and bookshelves are all in limbo, waiting for the soffit to be finished (painting, mostly).
The office is cram jam full of the stuff from the living room bookshelves and general storage. This all is going to take LOTS of weeding. Don't hold your breath.