In the course of our recent remodel, we discovered we needed to replace our 25 year old breaker panel.

Hattie and I mourned the loss of our beloved sofa which was to be replaced by a new one with “more contemporary lines” and more in keeping with new paint job. It’s the grey one below.

They (the decorator lady) brought this one out after I nixed the first one they showed me. I couldn’t find the courage to nix TWO sofas so I sat on it for 20 seconds and said okay.

When we got it home, I discovered that if you sat far enough back to sit comfortably, my feet didn’t reach the floor. (It was like being four years old again) If my feet touched the floor, I had to recline about 45 degrees to reach the back of the sofa.

The decorator quickly pointed out this wouldn’t be a problem with lots of little “throw pillows” on the couch. I hate decorative pillows. On a sofa or a bed.

Fortunately Barb — and her sister — agreed with my assessment, the new sofa went home, and the old sofa came out of the basement and back where it belongs.

The End. (music up, roll credits)

Refrigerator, dishwasher, stove, washer, dryer, sink, cabinets, counter, walls… all gone. Ripped out by young men with power tools. We’re starting Week Two of a major renovation of our home that Barb has been planning for two years. They’re gutting our main living area. New hardwood floors, bathrooms, even the fireplace gets a make-over.

Barb has worked — as my friend Taisir is fond of saying — “like a Hebrew slave” on this and my contribution is staying the fuck out of the way.

It’s a bit like moving to a new home without going anywhere. There’s a “pod” sitting in front of our house which is basically a semi trailer. Large sweaty men will move all of our furniture there and back. This project is supposed to take two months but experience has taught me everything takes twice as long and costs twice as much as planned. In the meantime, I’ve barricaded myself in my little bunker upstairs for the duration.