We’ve had a sheet of plastic at the top of our stairwell for two years. It provided a physical and psychological barrier to the lower half of our house, the half that was ruined in the flood of ought-five. For many long months I’ve looked forward to the day when that plastic sheeting would come down, as a grand symbol of our recovery. Of course it didn’t work out that way: I took it down this morning and yawned. A lot of work remains to be done, but that plastic was getting pretty raggedy.
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This is how recovery comes: not with a bang, but a whimper. One small step that is really one giant leap. Keep your eyes on the prize. And a lot of other hackneyed things like that.
Congratulations, B. I raise my Abita Recovery Ale in your honor!
Peace,
Tim
What I’ve noticed over the years of working on various projects that there is a moment when you do something pretty simple that turns the entire project from ‘not done’ to ‘mostly done’. It might be a coat of paint or some moulding or sanding the floor, but a project that looks like it is going no where for a long time will suddenly turn a corner and look almost finished. This, of course is when a lot of people begin to coast and it takes 4 years to get the outlet and switch plates back on the electrical.