Esme would like to say, "q22222222222222222222222222222222" To which I reply, "Get the hell off my keyboard."
Today was... well, a bit dull.
The plumber was here. We now have proper shut-off valves for both cold and hot water. The connection for the water line to the ice maker in the fridge has been redone (that is, done correctly), and in a few days we'll also have a shut-off valve for the propane line to the range. More visible, new pipes to the sink! They're ever so shiny.
And the only other pic of the day:
Sheet rock! And insulation, which you can't see, but trust me - it's there. And flaily wire tentacles protruding from the walls. And a weary Dementor in the upper right corner. I would've woken it, but they're such angels when they're asleep.
Had to fess up to Don about the tile. I intended to play the "*kssssssh* *krssshlsshs* Can't hear you, hon. Bad connection," game seven or eight times, but the moment the subject came up I caved . Told him everything. Sweet lad that he is, he assured me he would have been entirely cool with going for the larger, more expensive tiles, at which point I begged him to stop. "I made a decision!" I cried. "There was thought. There was deliberation. Price comparison. Aesthetic consideration. I chose a highly specific shade of grout. Do not take this away from me!" So, in short, all is well.
That's it for today, kids. I was at the gym most of my waking hours, so even if anything cool happened at our wee cottage, I'd be none the wiser.