Demolition, Day the Final

We have no deck: just a blank space behind the house. We’ve discussed ways of making the back door inaccessible, because of COURSE someone is going to forget and wander out into space, like Wile E. Coyote. For now, I’ve got the back door and the screen locked, and boxes piled up in front of the door. At least someone would have to make an effort to be stupid.

Scenes from the day:

Another view of the rot, from under the deck

Going, going…

Gone! (with the Home Supervisor, with her Glass of Rose)

Mark forgot to eat lunch; I did think to take him out a glass of lemonade mid-day, but I should really think to bring him food as well. I mean, we both want to lose weight, but this is just silly.

After a hearty dinner, Tired Demolition Man was Tired.

I’ve sent him to bed.

As for my progress: well, I got scene 11 done, but scene 12 requires a bit of thinking and perhaps conversation with Tired Demolition Man. Because characters just WILL make their own way through their story, no matter how carefully mapped out your outline is, you know?

And in the course of some sailing-boat-related research, I came across a website about the care and feeding of sails, and first among the recommendations is “Avoid Flogging.” Well. I’d say that’s sound advice in many arenas, no? (Unless you like that kind of thing.) (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)