Dust Control--the eternal quest while in reno mode.
It is an illusive ideal, one that springs perpetually to mind as I watch boot tracks thicken across the tile floors despite constant sweeping and damp mopping. Every time a simple item is moved from repose on a flat surface, like a token left on a window sill, there remains a shining spot of cleanliness to remind me of my failure to stem the tide of encroaching filth. Still, one does what one can....
At the foot of the stairs leading to the bedrooms. We can't be sneezing all night while trying for a rejuvenating sleep.
Between the now non-existent kitchen and our camping dining room.
Protecting the plants in the porch, but hoping they can still breathe in there.
And then there is the added challenge of pets, animals with very small heads--ergo--very small brains.
Dog just stands on one side of the plastic sheeting and barks for what he wants. Barks and barks and barks and barks and barks and....like I said, a VERY LITTLE BRAIN. Cat on the other hand, is extremely focused on his needs and will try various different ways to achieve his ends. First, he sits and pleads pathetically for help. When that ploy is totally ignored, he then attempts to peel back the plastic taped to the wall. Some success is immediately met with swift retribution on my part. Okay then, he begins to scratch and claw at the plastic. I increase the volume of my rants and what do you think he does next?
He takes a running leap, plunges head first into the plastic barrier and comes tumbling through the other side to his, and my total astonishment. Notice the many blue tapes at cat level in this next photograph.
As we fight the good fight here at home, construction proceeds apace next door. Walls are going up now giving us a foretaste of just how immense the sky-blotting structure is going to be. For over 25 years we have lived next door to a green field. Now, NEIGHBOURS just 10 feet from my kitchen window.
The saying goes, the first sign of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again despite the lack of desired results. Either I am going insane, or my little brain has to come up with a new way of dealing with this encroachment on my perceived space. Wailing about it is not making it go away.
For those of us with little brains, embracing change is difficult.