Making Do

Well, we're coming up on a week without a kitchen. Over the weekend, a few people asked me what our temporary setup is like, so I will tell you: It is messy, and yet to be perfected. I think we had pizza delivered on five of the past six days. But yesterday I went to the grocery store and I think we have some delicious sandwiches in our future.

The demo actually wasn't fully complete in my last post because the linoleum was still on the floor. Once they pulled that up, it occurred to me that I had failed to account for the fact that the gaps in the subfloor would allow a bunch of dust and cruddy crud shavings to fall through into the laundry room below. There's nothing to do about it really until the new floor goes down. Until then, I'm glad the laundry room is unfinished?

Here's a bit of our temporary kitchenette setup in the rec room. GLAMOUR. Hey, see that D-Con package on the book shelf? Funny story: After the discovery of all the mouse poop under the cabinet, I bought some poison, thinking it would just be precautionary during the winter, especially since we'd be eating downstairs more. The package said to move the bait if it hadn't been touched after three days, and I was all, "How would I know if a little mouse has a little nibble on it? How do you judge a thing like that?"

Turns out it's very easy because JERK MICE EAT ALMOST THE WHOLE PACKAGE. So yes, this is great news. We definitely have mice. My mom has also pointed out that poison not be the best way to go since then mice can die in your walls and be smelly. But I'm torn, because I've used traps in a past apartment (I'm not gross, I've just lived in a lot of old buildings) and come home to find a mouse trapped only by its hind leg, which left me to finish the job with the nearest heavy disposable thing. Ironically, from the mouse's point of view, it was a Lucky magazine. 

Tangential: The last time you saw the "fourth bedroom" it was filled with cardboard boxes. We've since cleared those out and moved the patio furniture in for the season. I'm now calling this room the salon. (You have to say it with a pretentious accent and emphasize the first syllable.) I'm not kidding myself that it will ever be used. Basically I just think it's funny. Even more tangential: I was born on this rug. It's a long story of a short labor, but the upshot is that my parents kept the rug in their garage for 30 years and then gave it to me once I finally had a place for it. In my mouse-infested salon. 

Anyway, I guess the plan is to just be really OCD about cleaning up food remnants in the basement and keeping anything tasty packed away in glass containers. Uhhh gross I hear something in the wall RIGHT NOWWWWW. I hope you have a massive tummy-ache, jerkwad. Please die outside.