The Taste of Plaster Dust

Insulation... sheetrock... mud... plaster dust everywhere. Progress is being made, albeit at a glacial rate, on our remodeling project.

We leave in the morning before the crew shows up, and they're usually gone by the time we get home in the afternoon. We wander through the house, looking for signs of activity by the construction fairies. Kind of like an Easter egg hunt only, you know, not. To be fair, it probably would've gone a lot faster if we had moved out of the house during construction. If we had known of accessible, dog-friendly housing we might have done that, but the prospect of finding such a thing was daunting, and living someplace else for however long it took would've been expensive. The contractor was willing to work around us, so if it takes a little longer, we're good with that.

So far, she says, knocking firmly on wooden skull, we got lucky with the paint colors we picked. My previous attempts involving anything other than boring off-white have been unmitigated disasters, so I was uneasy about venturing further out on the color palette. And greens are tricky. I was looking for that soft, sagey green, somewhere between, and perilously close to, toothpaste and pond slime. The wrong brown can be similarly unfortunate, but even the burlap-brown in the bathroom looks good. This is where it gets scary. I'm starting to think we could put something other than off-white in the living room, and not live to regret it. And in theory, it seems like you should be able to choose the color of your own bedroom. In practice, I wonder if it makes any difference that Tuffy's favorite color is purple.