When the dust settles

bright sunny day - cold - minus 5

I finally appreciate the full depth of that saying...Waiting until the dust settles.

The floor guys came on friday and sanded...without a bag to collect the dust. Our construction manager Bob Ray, who was there, describes it as akin to a dust storm in the Sahara. He and one of his workers, Ashley, went in on Sunday and cleaned up. They had to vacuum the ceiling. The walls. Inside the kitchen drawers.

The floor guys came back today....we were all shuddering....wondering what next. I went to the house at 7am to let them in. They arrived at 8. And announced they had more sanding to do. Now, I hadn't witnessed the ordeal on Friday, but Bob was almost in tears describing it. So I asked if it would be as bad.

They exchanged glances and said - 'No.'

I stared at them, nodded, and left. The better part of valour? Just chicken, really. I realized if they were lying or telling the truth, it didn't really matter - whatever was about to happen, would happen....and I had to just step out of the way, and let them get on with it.

We went back at 5pm...and rushed in before our courage failed. To find...the place almost pristine! Or, at least, not any filthier than it was at 8am. And the floors??? Well, they'd managed to get the first coat of oil on the reclaimed teak, and the floors are spectacular. My God - even better than I dreamed.

What a relief!

Lise and Donna and Lise's friend Rose are going in tomorrow, while the floor guys put on a second coat....to do a clean of the upstairs. It isn't too bad - but it sure is far from clean, after three months accumulating construction dust. I suggest to Lise they get those masks, so she's off to Rona to buy some first thing.

What a travail, these renovations. But we've had worse. We actually had our home - many years ago - burn down. All the way to a smoldering black hole in the ground during renovations. Apparently one of the roofers tossed a lit cigarette into a garbage can filled with saw dust. And the inevitable happened.

Measured against that disaster, anything else looks like a cake-walk.

Yesterday, as I mentioned, I did another signing session at the Salon du Livres, at the booth of my Quebec publisher, Flammarion Quebec. Lots of people - but there were some quiet moments. I was telling you how horrifying those can be....one of the Flammarion employees captured a few of those moments on film.

This is what writers do with too much time on their hands....

Yes - that is what creativity looks like. I am indistinguishable from Jane Austen.

Hope you enjoyed your weekend - speak soon.