Workmen - life is better than fiction...

The restoration company has finally arrived on our doorstep to begin making things much worse before they plan on making them better.  The first day the trucks were out front of our home and as I walked toward our front door I distinctly smelled skunk.  I should know, my sweet baby boy was sprayed with one - but that is another crushed-tomatoes-up-the-wall disaster story for another day; however, you can't mistake that smell.  Actually, you can.  Skunk, and it's close cousin skunk weed, while they have entirely different effects have entirely the same smell.  You can imagine Project Mama's surprise then when out of one of the vans rolls our new drywaller literally in a puff of smoke.  Awesome.  This weed man is going to piece my house together again?  


Well, I have since learned something new.  It seems as though weed doesn't affect a drywaller's ability to make a ceiling stunningly smooth, or put a room so that it looks better than ever before.  So Project Mama is happy.  What it does affect is the ability to have instructions actually register in the drywaller's brain.  For example we had a too-long discussion the other day on just what "trim" was: doors, heat registers, and window ledges.  Drywaller/Painter (turns out he's our painter too) nods when he hears instructions or answers to HIS OWN QUESTIONS but Project Mama really has no idea why since he certainly can't mean "I completely understand and will absolutely make sure it is done that way."


We now have not ivory trim on the heat registers but a rather dark "bluff" shade.  Make that dung brown.  Looks modern and cool on the walls.  Looks like dung on the registers.  Drywaller was a bit dazed when we discussed that, but I feel confident he will bounce back.  He says, "man" a lot.  Oddly, Project Mama has a soft spot for pot smoking drywaller/painter.  He has an old t-shirt he wears all the time that has been clumsily sewn back together in 2 spots.  It might make Project Mama's heart ache.