Day Seventeen

You know how you have these sense memories?  Like you taste or smell something and it reminds you of something in the past.  My olfactory memories are ridiculous (and despite never being able to breath through my nose, my sense of smell is really sensitive).  I equate the smell of cooking onions to Christmas morning because my mom made homemade stuffing when I was a kid, and cooked the onions, celery, and sausage on Christmas morning.  I woke up to the smell of cooked onions.  Strange, right?

So I walk into my house today and there is a new odor.  And this new odor reminds me of being in second grade.  The smell I'm picking up is fresh dry-wall (joint) compound; the stuff they use to tape up the joints of sheet rock and all the screw holes.  That's the smell.  Why, you ask, do I flash back to being 7 years old?  When I was in second grade, my parents built our house.  Sure there were contractors for the cement, well, and the likes, but for the most part, they did all the work.  I can remember doing my homework on the big spool that held the power line that was used to bring electricity from the road to the house.  My brother and I used to play on the cut down trees (some were very bouncy on their sides).  My mom and dad did the dry-wall work, including taping and sanding.  That's why the smell means something to me.

It's kind of weird how the brain works.  

The sheet rock guys came today.  Everything in the kitchen has been mudded and is drying.  It looks very nice.  

The pantry all taped up.  Waiting for sanding.  See the little blower in the back corner.  That was on when we got home.  It was shaking the house.  That tiny, little fan.

Here's the view from the pantry to where the wall separated the kitchen from the dining room.  All that's left is a little strip of wall for the switch.  It's all taped and gorgeous!

View from the dining room, opposite side of the above photo.

The patches on either side of the doorway are where lights used to be.  Since there's six lights in the ceiling, they weren't necessary anymore.

Our beautiful ceiling.  Complete with lights.  Yay!