Handled

Greg, the sweet guy who cleans for our friend Sullins, came by Sunday to start getting the grit out for our move.

Well, that was the plan, anyway. He said we weren't quite ready for him, but he helped me clean out the air-handler filters, which were full of mahogany dust. (How could that have happened?)

He's planning to be back Wednesday, since his seasonal clients are migrating north and he has more free time. He'll get going after Deco and Dave finish the light-well floor, move out their heavy woodworking stuff and consolidate the leftover flooring.

When I bid Greg adios, I thought I might as well get after the handles on the six den doors. Flooring materials, at long last part of the floor, weren't blocking them anymore, and I could actually get to them. So there I was with my trusty DeWalt, a template, a level, a pencil, a tape measure and an improvised screwdriver.

I think Ref may have wrapped me a little too tightly: Three sets of doors, six handles, twelve holes . . . 90 minutes? Priceless.