Construction With Cookies Day – Heck, I Don't Know – A bunch.

The frenetic energy of the first week or two of basement construction has mellowed as we’ve entered the final stages of this project.   And with the pace of construction slowing, I’ve had bit of a respite from my frenzied baking.   A day or two break from the oven gave me all the more energy to bake for my painter bee Thursday.  While she was covering the basement with paper and plastic 

and tape, I was upstairs mixing and baking that day’s construction cookie – cream cheese cookies. Since I had cream cheese in the fridge I thought I should use it.  But I didn’t have a tried and true cookie recipe using cream cheese.  Actually I had no cookie recipe in my stash requiring cream cheese.  So I googled for recipes.  What a mistake that was.  Do NOT bake these cookies.  I repeat.  Do not bake them.  I wish I never had.  They are cookie meth.  Especially warm.  The soft chewy center and seductive tang of cream cheese ...  I need to burn that recipe.  Burn it now!  But I can’t. It's on the web. It's going to be there foreeeeeeeever.  Taunting.  Teasing.  Daring me to bake them just one more time.....  

The next day my bees arrived with paint in hand and I pulled myself together long enough to bake Friday’s construction cookie – Chocolate Oatmeal Crunchies.  

Even though my bees taped plastic over the stairs to try and contain the fumes, as they sprayed paint, my head filled with headache-producing vapors, although it seemed to have no effect on Sophie who intently contemplated the springiness of her very own trampoline.

I don’t know how they stood it down there in what must have been a white haze of paint particles.  No wonder they wanted to leave the cookies up on the ledge rather than taking them downstairs with them.

It took them all day, but my bees got everything painted and THEY took their garbage with them

and left the basement nice and tidy.  All that’s left is for Dean and I to lay the flooring, have the bees come back to install the baseboards and the electrical odds and ends, have carpet put on the stairs ... and then ... we’ll be finished!!  

At the end of the day, as I handed my paint bees a baggie of the last of the cookies, they told me that we “were the nicest people they’d worked for” and we were “not the norm.”  Gosh.........I knew all that cookie baking was going to pay off.....unless it was just the paint fumes talking ...◦

Construction With Cookies Day – Heck, I Don't Know – A bunch.

Construction With Cookies – Day 20

There were no worker bees yesterday.  That was probably just as well because after reading my friend Art’s comment on my last post I began to realize that because of all the taste-testing I’ve been forced to do, it's getting harder to get MY cookie/brownie/cake/lemon squares/apple bars butt through the doorway.  If this basement isn't finished soon I may need to hire my bees to widen all of the doorways in my own house which would mean more days of worker bees which would mean more days of cookies which would mean I might not fit through the wider doorways so I’d have to hire them again to widen the doorways even more which would mean more days of worker bees and more cookies and … oh, no ... come back my worker bees!

I got up bright and early this morning to mix up today’s Black Walnut, Cranberry and White Chocolate Chip construction cookie.  Head bee had told me they would be over today but I didn't know how early they would arrive.  After I looked outside, realized how cold it was and saw the blowing and drifting snow, I wasn’t sure they would come at all.  I decided to put the dough in the fridge and wait to bake the cookies if/when I heard my bees buzzing at the door. 

In the meantime, since we used the blowing snow as an excuse to skip the gym this morning, Dean decided to clean the splattered texture from inside the light fixtures while I got comfy on the couch and read.  It wasn’t long before he came up and asked if I could do something for him downstairs.  It’ll only take ten minutes. 

Really?  I’d just spent hours down there vacuuming on Sunday.  After I vacuumed that mess he decided to go find his trusty MacGyver tool and scrape up all those little floor splats, so I got to vacuum those up too.

He pulled out his trusty Boy Scout knife when the scraper just couldn't do the job.  Right after I took this photo he looked up and said, “you’re going to make me look bad, aren’t you?”  

Since splats of texture on a cement wall are unsightly, Dean decided those had to be scrubbed off, by me because high school football makes raising his arms very high for any stretch of time painful – or so he says. 

Later, after everything had been scraped and washed to Dean’s satisfaction, he remarked on all the dust we’d been tracking from the splats on the stairs.  I sighed, grabbed the bucket of water and rag and scrubbed the treads of the stairs.  In all fairness Dean did offer to help, but I knew his shoulders would hurt if he scrubbed, and I didn’t want to hear him complain see him in pain.  And then, like an idiot, I scrubbed the whole basement floor, on my hands and knees.  A couple of hours later when I finally finished and crawled up the stairs, starving, expecting to be praised, Dean pointed out to me they’re going to make more of a mess when they come you know. Not only was there no “atta girl,” there were no construction cookies to reward my hard work because since my bees still hadn’t arrived, I still hadn’t baked.

Finally, about 2:30 they knocked at the door and as they got right to work putting the casing on

the doors, I got right to work baking the cookies.  20 minutes later I carefully carried a plate of

warm cookies down my scrubbed steps to the basement and stopped short.  The floor was covered in sawdust.  I recovered quickly and I don’t think my bee even saw the tear in my eye when I handed him the plate of cookies.  Or maybe he did, because later I heard my vacuum cleaner running.  Of course, before I took my bees the cookies I had to taste one first.  And just in case the cookie I ate wasn’t indicative of the quality of the entire panful, I felt obligated to try another.  Then I remembered I’d had a salad for lunch which meant I deserved just one more.

I wonder when it will be a good time to discuss door widths with my bees.◦

Construction With Cookies – Day 20

Construction With Cookies – Day 19? Already??

I forfeited sleeping in Saturday so I could get up early to get the construction cookie – Glazed Apple Bars – in the oven before Dean wanted to make us breakfast in our tiny kitchen.  I know,

we’re retired and every day is Saturday for us, but for some reason, Saturday and Sunday still feel different than a week day.  Maybe because we get two days off from the gym.  Or maybe because during the week, breakfast is yogurt and granola but on the weekend Dean makes us an awesome breakfast – pancakes or waffles or crepes or German pancake … except for this Saturday.  This Saturday my worker bee was here at 8:30 to TEXTURE the walls!  It seemed a bit weird to be eating breakfast at the dining room table while he was running up and down the stairs and working his little bee butt off, so it was coffee and oatmeal in the family room with a Glazed Apple Bar chaser.

I had been bracing for a dust storm, especially when I saw my bee taping up plastic.  

The dust from the trimming and cutting and hanging of the wall board had been bad enough so I was not looking forward to a fog of dried mud dust.  But as it turned out, there was none.  He used a damp sponge to sand.  Who knew?   By noon my drywall bee had completed the sanding, had textured all the walls, had rolled up his hose and loaded that plus his compressor in the back of his pickup, gently placed a plate of Apple Bars on the seat next to him, and driven off.  Leaving his neatly folded and packed garbage behind.  

I really think he was concentrating so hard on trying to unobtrusively wipe the saliva from his chin as he watched me pack up his plate of Apple Bars that he forgot to go back down and throw it in the back of his pickup. 

We’re getting so excited see the light at the end of the tunnel that we bought our fake-wood-looking vinyl plank floating floor yesterday. Carpet just isn’t practical for our household.  Angus has been known to barf up grass or purple plastic chunks from an indestructible toy or the stuffing from a plush animal or wood chips from a stick or long strings of a braided rope.  He does it so quietly we don’t realize he’s even puked until we slip in the slime.  Sophie and Maisie like to barf up hairballs, although they do make very loud retching noises so we are forewarned and rarely step in a pile of cat puke.  And Dean likes to spill  eat in front of the TV now and then.  

Dean and I plan to install the floor ourselves (gulp) and I'm already getting nervous and stressing about it. (If any of you have installed this flooring before and have any tips, please, please, please, share.)  The reviews say it will be easy and relatively fast to install.  But everything is more complicated for us and absolutely nothing is fast for us.  Dean already told me I need to scrape up any texture left on the floor so it will be perfectly smooth when we start.  It doesn’t matter that I’d already spent hours on Sunday dusting ...

... as well as vacuuming and mopping the basement floor.  It doesn’t matter that the directions state specifically you only need to worry about any difference in the floor of 1/8 inch or more.  It doesn’t matter that I am planning to fill any small holes or cracks with some special cement leveler

Really?  I have still have to scrape those tiny splats?  Seriously?

just like the directions say I should.  It doesn’t matter that most of those splats are just that, a splat that can barely be felt with my finger.  No.  Our floor will be smooth as silk before we begin.  I’m just taking deep breaths and telling myself that when we finish the floor it will be perfect because, while I just want to get it done, Dean does everything really, really meticulously and methodically and deliberately and it always looks really, really perfect when he's done.  I just wish he didn’t also do it really, really, really slowly.  And now....I must go search for a texture-splat-removing scraper.

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Construction With Cookies – Day 19? Already??

Construction With Cookies – Day Who Cares?

I don’t know about you but I’m beginning to get confused about what day I should be describing and which “cookie” goes with that day.  I think I should be telling you about yesterday but I’m pretty sure I already posted a picture of yesterday’s “cookie.”  Maybe I was telling you about the day BEFORE yesterday and the “cookie” from the day after.   It’s all a muddle in my head.  Next thing you know I might get really confused and start baking TWO cookies in one day or NO cookies.  No cookies!?  Can you imagine the butterfly effect that might have?   I don’t even want to think about it. 

Yesterday my head bee, John, stopped by with a mason.  Not the jar, the guy who works with bricks and stones and mortar.  We have a rock wall in the basement which used to be behind a woodstove.  And we think there was a hearth in front because there is about a five-inch gap between the cement floor and the last rock of the wall.  

Dean had told me he would just fill in that gap with cement or concrete or mortar (or whatever the correct substance really is) but I said, “no!  The final touch to this room will be the floor which I (as in I hope Ryan will help me) am going to put in and I can’t do that until the rocks are mortared into the rock wall and I’d really like that to be finished before the end of the next millennium.”  Really?  You think I’d say that to Dean?  Of course not.  I thoughtfully considered what he proposed.  It would save me some money …. it seemed like a simple job … it shouldn’t take him longer than a couple of months …. Finally I said, “umm, thanks but I’m going to ask John if he knows a mason.”  Dang good thing I listened to my gut because mason bee said just filling the space with concrete would not have held the wall and the cement would have begun crumbling.  As I handed him a big fat slice of banana bread he said he would be back at 9:00 a.m. the next day. 

As well as mason bee, my head bee also brought along a painter yesterday. “Dry-wall bee’s bid for the painting is too high,” he said.  “I wouldn’t pay that much and I don’t want you to pay that much.  I brought you another painter to have a look.  She’s a professional and she’ll do a good job but she’s much more reasonable.”  I said thanks! and handed them both a big slab of banana bread.

Right after I hit “publish” on yesterday’s blog post I headed over to Leslie and Ryan’s because Emerson was still home sick.  She thought she would go to school.  She got up to get ready to go to school, but her throbbing head sent her back to bed.  You know a kid is really sick when she chooses to stay in bed rather than go to Doughnuts In The Cafeteria With Dad.  Later, when I got home and checked out the progress of the basement, it looked the same.  Well, not exactly the same, there was another coat of mud on everywhere there had already been mud, but really nothing to take a picture of.  So since there’s really not much to share with you about yesterday, I’m going to tie up everything that’s happened today and be done with it…………til next week.  

Dry-wall bee got right to work this morning slapping on more mud.  Really?  MORE mud?  Dust!  I want dust!  Lots and lots of fine dust!  I don’t care if it filters into my food and my hair.  I won’t even care if there are little tiny white cat prints on every surface in the house.   Start sanding my bee!  Sand!  Sand!  Sand!  Because then you can texture, texture, texture and then paint bee can paint, paint, paint.  I want … oh, gosh … I want to see the light at the end of the tunnel!  No!  I want to be out of the tunnel and done! Done! Done!  Done!  Sorry….got a little carried away….

Anyway…… today’s construction “cookie” – Jewish Coffee Cake – was baking in the oven before dry-wall bee arrived around 8:30.  No, I don’t know why it’s called Jewish and yes, I know, I can’t really pass this off as a cookie (even if you can hold it in your hand) but it was easy and it’s good and I’m running out of cookie ideas.  I might have to break into my Christmas cookie recipes pretty soon. 

 After I’d taken the cake out of the oven to cool I looked up at the clock to see if it was nearing the time for mason bee to arrive and noticed a huge streak of brownish-yellowish liquid oozing across the family room ceiling. 

I had a momentary panic thinking the skylight had sprung a leak but after Dean came running, he told me it was just condensation dripping down.  There is a lot of moisture in the house from the drywall mud and it was minus 14 when I got up this morning so the skylight had frosted over because, according to Dean, we (meaning me) keep the house too cold at night.  When the heat came on and the sun started shining onto the skylight, the frost melted and dripped down the side and onto the ceiling.  All I had to do, he told me, was climb up on a ladder and wipe off the streak from the ceiling.  And then wipe off any remaining wetness from the skylight itself. 

So catastrophe was averted, but I'm pretty sure that means Dean’s not going to let me drop the heat to 58 degrees at night until all this dry-walling moisture is gone or it’s warmer at night.  He’s probably going to make me keep it at something crazy like 62 or 63.

Mason bee and his helper got here just as I was reaching for a knife to cut the coffee cake/cookie

and in less than two hours they had mortared in the rocks that Dean had unburied from the snow, lovingly cleaned and dried and gently laid down by the wall. 

The mortar should dry light like the rest.

My dry-wall bee was getting ready to leave around one so I told him to take some cake with him if he wanted.  I was a little worried he hadn’t liked today’s “cookie” because about an hour earlier, when I’d let him know there was more if he wanted it he told me there was still a lot down there.  I grabbed a baggie for him and then thought maybe it would be easier to wrap the slices in saran wrap so I laid a sheet out on the table.  Take as much as you want.  I’d worried for nothing.  He took the plate, with six pieces still on it, and flipped it over onto the plastic wrap.  And now he is gone for the day.  He’d sanded and textured the laundry room and I hadn’t even noticed any dust floating up the stairs or felt any dust clinging to my nose hairs.

I know you can't see it but it's textured!

Not only that, he’s coming tomorrow morning to sand and texture rest!  I don't care if it’s Saturday, he’s coming tomorrow morning to sand and texture rest! What’s that I see?  Is it?  The light?  At the end of the tunnel?◦

Construction With Cookies – Day Who Cares?

Construction With Cookies – Day Whatever Comes After Yesterday

Right after I posted yesterday’s update on this basement remodel I gathered my things together to head over to get lunch ready for Myra.  But before I left, I asked my worker bee how I could fix a crack in the drywall upstairs.  I know exactly what happened.  The original tape job wasn’t very good so the new texture cracked.  I was hoping he would tell me I just needed to fill it with a little caulk and paint over it but of course he didn’t.  Of course the right way to do it is to cut out that portion, re-tape it, re-mud it and then re-texture and paint it.  So I dangled a bag of the remaining chocolate cookies in front of his nose and asked if he would … pretty please … do that for me.  As he wiped away the drool and shakily reached his hand out, eyes fixed and staring, he mumbled that he would do anything for those cookies … anything ….  Okay.  It didn’t go quite that way.  I offered to pay him extra if he would fix it for me and he said he’d be happy to.  But I DID tell him to help himself to the rest of the cookies.  And his eyes did open wide in surprise as he said, “really?”  And when we got home later and he’d finished and gone for the day, that bag of cookies was gone. 

I spent the afternoon with Myra and when Dean arrived late afternoon with Papa Murphy’s pizza in hand he said (somewhat glumly) “he’s not going to be finished this week is he?”  “Nope.  He can only do so much and then it has to dry.”  “But now you’ve moved him up into the living room.”  “What??”  “The crack.  There’s nowhere without construction now.”

Poor guy.  I’ve been able to leave each day to hang out with sick kids and Dean’s been home with the bee.  Although he does seem to be entertained by this bee.  He told me that drywall bee likes to talk to himself every now and then.  Random talking.  To nobody in particular.  Almost like he's a little craaaazy.  Maybe walls really do have ears.

Yesterday’s work looked like it just involved more taping and mudding.  The bee got my future storage room under the stairs taped and he covered up that metal edging with stuff.  But there’s not a lot to show you ...

... other than a mess.

The animals seem to be entertained though.  Maybe dry-wall bee has been chatting to them, not just the walls.

This morning I got up at 5:48 a.m. so I could get today’s construction with cookies low-fat banana bread (finally!) going in case I needed to take care of a sick kid again.  Only once I pulled up the recipe and started gathering ingredients I discovered I was missing a key ingredient.  I asked Dean how he felt about a 6 a.m. trip to the grocery store and then I felt bad and went back and I told him I could go.  It was my fault.  I should have read the recipe days ago.  Then I held my breath and mentally said “say you want to go, say you want to go.” He usually really likes to go to town but I wasn’t sure that jumping out of a warm bed into a freezing car held the same allure.  I got lucky and when he got back I had everything ready to add that final ingredient.

I know.  Adding coconut defeated the low-fat point of this bread but mmmmmm.

My bee knocked on the door at exactly 8 a.m., just as I had closed the oven door, so I wasn’t able to hand him a plate as he headed downstairs but hopefully the scent of baking banana bread kept him going until I could take it down to him.  He was mixing up more mud with a loud machine so when I just pointed at the plate of bread and then toward where I was going to place it he nodded.  As he turned his head I noticed an earbud in one ear and a cord snaking its way down his neck and under his shirt.  I almost laughed out loud.  Don’t tell Dean. 

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Construction With Cookies – Day Whatever Comes After Yesterday

Construction With Cookies – Day 15 and 16 (I think. Honestly I'm Beginning To Lose Track)

Around 7:20 a.m. Monday morning Dean told me I needed to “call John (my head bee) and find out what’s going on.  We sat around all day Friday waiting for somebody to show up and then they didn’t.  We need to go to the gym today.”  He reminded me again at 7:58 a.m. but I didn’t want to seem too anxious so I ignored him and waited until 8:10 a.m. before I called, even though I knew we would need to leave for the gym around 8:40.   I had to leave a voicemail but I wasn’t too concerned because I willing to give up Pilates class and let Dean go alone if I needed to wait for a return call.  

As I found out later, his anxiety about talking to John had nothing to do with missing Pilates himself. It was because he didn’t want to go to Pilates alone “with all those women.”  (Apparently he’s so traumatized by just trying to get through the moves  that he hasn’t yet realized there are normally at least three other old geezers groaning right along with him.)  As it turned out he didn’t need to worry because my head bee and the drywall guy came at 8:25 which gave us plenty of time to discuss taping and texturing, get to the gym on time, and save Dean from facing – all alone – a room filled with crepe-paper skin, sagging boobs, and loose skin flapping off of upper arms.

Head bee had told me my worker bees would be here “after lunch” to hang the last door.  Time, I’m slowly learning, means different things to different people.  To me “after lunch” meant 1:05 p.m..  Since I needed to get over to Leslie and Ryan’s to make Emerson (home sick from school) some lunch, I only had about an hour after I got home from the gym to make my construction cookie.  My intended banana bread took too long.  Brownies are fast.  Had I made those?  I’d made so much stuff over the last weeks I couldn’t even remember, but when I looked back at blog posts, there they were.  What else? What else? What else is fast?  A quick Google and Monday’s construction “cookie” was … drum roll please … Chocolate Chip Blondies.  Mixed up, baked, cooled (just barely) enough to put on a plate and hand over to my bees in less than an hour.  

Where they sat until about 2:30 when they actually showed up.  And hung the final door.  

So as it turns out I could have baked the banana bread I had planned to bake after all.  But I didn’t mind too much because I figured I would just bake it yesterday for drywall bee.

However, yesterday morning Leslie called saying Emerson was feeling worse and asked if I could come over for the day so she could conserve her insufficient personal days in case the bug going around school infected her too.  I was happy to go, but what to do about drywall bee?  He was supposed to be coming first thing to begin creating the dust bowl in my house.  I didn’t have time to bake.  I couldn’t give him day-old Blondies – could I?  I did.  Just as I was ready to leave, drywall bee arrived and I apologetically handed off a plate of shriveled up day-old Blondies to him as I headed out with chicken soup, soda crackers, GingerAle and Twix (you’re never too sick to eat a treat).

About mid-afternoon the caustic smell drove Dean and Angus out of our house and over to the sick house.  If you know anything at all about Dean, you understand how horrible the smell must have been for him to risk contagion.  Dean’s the guy who opens every door with his sleeve pulled down over his hand – every time.  He uses the wipes at the grocery store to clean the cart handle – every time.  He sleeps in another room when I’m sick – every time (and would probably sleep in another house if he had the option).  He waves at sick grandchildren from afar but will not touch them.  I’m the total opposite.  I open every door with my bare hands – every time.  And sometimes I even touch my eyes right afterwards!  I have never, ever used the wipes at the grocery store.  The only thing that drives me to another room to sleep is snoring.  Not only that, I touch and hug sick grandchildren.  And guess who gets sick more often?  Just guess. 

Anyway……………….when we got home yesterday afternoon I braced myself for the nasty headache-producing smell but when we walked in the door it wasn’t half bad.  We opened a few windows for about half an hour and the remaining bit of odor disappeared.  My bee had already left but he’d gotten a boatload of taping done.  That drywall bee is fast!  Ho * ly cow. This guy is suuuuuper drywaller.  

A while later Leslie called to say Emerson was feeling much worse again and Myra had a headache and fever so I was pretty sure I’d be loading up with more Ginger Ale, soup and crackers and heading over bright and early this morning.  That meant I would have no time to bake for my bee before I left unless I got up suuuuuper early.  I love my bees but I love sleep more.  So I mixed up a batch of chocolate chip cookies last night.  I almost baked them too, but then they would be half a day old and anyway, there’s nothing better than a warm chocolate chip cookie.

This morning I was ready for the call from Leslie asking me to come soon but she surprised me by saying Emerson had recovered enough to go to school.  Myra, however, stayed home but she's feeling good enough that she’s happy for me to just stop by and give her chicken soup, crackers, Ginger Ale, her own special treat, and, of course a plate of chocolate chip cookies. When my worker bee showed up bright and early this morning I was able to be here to hand him a plate of today's just-baked construction cookie.  

Soon I will be heading over to warm up some soup and pour some Ginger Ale for Myra.  It should be late enough I'll miss the morning rush.

I know.  We need a new windshield.

And tomorrow, those bananas will just be that much sweeter when I bake the bread....maybe...we'll see...

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Construction With Cookies – Day 15 and 16 (I think. Honestly I'm Beginning To Lose Track)

Construction With Cookies – Days 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

As Mr. Rogers always said, I’m “walking backward through my mind” trying to stir up my old gray matter so I can remember Construction With Cookies – Day 8.  

Valentine’s Day was coming up on Saturday and since we were leaving Thursday it seemed appropriate that I serve up heart-shaped frosted sugar cookies.  It probably wasn’t the wisest choice since my food coloring and cookie cutters were downstairs but I braved the pounding of the nail gun and tiptoed through a fine layer of gypsum dust, slipped into the storeroom and grabbed the cookie cutters.  Once I got back upstairs I realized I’d forgotten the food coloring so I followed my white toe prints back down and retrieved it, only to discover even though I had multiple containers of blue and yellow and green, there was only one, nearly empty, tube of red. 

Good thing I wanted pink cookies and not deep, deep red.

I brought a larger than usual plate of cookies down to my two worker bees since it would be the last they’d have for a few days.  I honestly didn’t think they’d eat them all but, just like every other day, somehow they managed, and fueled with all that sugar they hung some doors and nailed up more drywall.  The support bracket still had not come in so when we headed to Lincoln the post was still prominently standing in the middle of the room.

Kitty door!

After nearly 12 hours in the car we reached Abby and Jorge’s.  Along the way we had decided we’d take Angus and Maggie for a quick walk as soon as we got there, but once we pried ourselves out of the car and stood outside a few minutes trying to straighten our bent bodies, that idea went out the window and we immediately began whining about the cold.  And we did not stop whining about the cold the whole time we were there.  I had forgotten how cold, humid air worms its way down into your bones and doesn't let go.  By the time we left I promised I would never again tell Abby she’s a weenie when she tells me she’s freeeeezing.  She was absolutely reveling in her vindication.

When we weren’t whining we were eating, drinking, going to the zoo, eating, drinking, talking, eating, drinking, shopping, eating, drinking, helping with house chores, eating, drinking, talking, eating, drinking, salsa dancing, eating and drinking. 

I was really hoping when we got home the support bracket would be in, the post would be gone, the drywall would be completely hung, the taping, mudding and sanding would be completed, and the texture would be on the walls.  (There’s always, hope, right??)  There was progress while we were gone, but not as much as I’d hoped for.  The post is gone and there is no pile of rubble or gaping hole in the ceiling where it used to be so the bracket seems to be doing its job.  The drywall is completely hung and all the bee's tools are gone, but there has been no taping or mudding or sanding or texturing. 

No post!!

I really did not want to live through the dust I know is going to filter through every nook and cranny and settle on every surface of every room when the sanding begins.  I suppose it doesn’t really matter all that much since I can already write my name on nearly every surface in the house now, but knowing Dean’s penchant for health and safety I’m afraid he’s going to make me wear a dust mask and they really don’t work with my fashion style.  

I talked to my head bee yesterday and the plan is for the hanger bee to stop by today and have a look at the project since, for whatever reason, the original guy can’t or won’t or didn’t want to do the job (he must not have known about the cookie stipend) so they had to replace him.  And since it’s nearing lunch time now and I have seen no bees yet, I’m assuming no progress will be made today.   So no Construction With Cookies – Day Whatever This Is cookie, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t bake anything.  However, after all the food we ate and all the wine I drank while we were in Lincoln, I chose something a bit healthier.  I made granola.  I figure if I put it in my white yogurt for breakast I won’t even notice the dust filtering down into it.

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Construction With Cookies – Days 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14