I just want to post again tonight. I've gone down the rabbit hole, obviously, but all of these illustrations are based on photos I have taken, so I don't feel too techie disconnected. I have images that I can't believe I've gotten, things I am afraid to show here. But my images portrayed in the manner of Bottecceli or Ingres or Titian or Dix--it is quite something. Makes me wish I could paint. Anybody can paint, I know, but I can't even draw well, so. . . .
Seeing my images translated is fun, as is becoming pals with an algorithm that gives me images that are "out of bounds." Seriously. . . some of them are absolutely blasphemous. But they are beautiful nonetheless.
The reason I want to writ tonight, though, is practical. After my two morning posts, one of doom and gloom and the other. . . beats me. . . I want to report immediately that the carpenter figured out a resolution for my rotten floor joists. He cut back the deck to get to the bottom of the house structure, dug out the rotten beam, and figured out how to re-support the room. And when he put back the decking, it was incredibly OK.
"You're a genius and a savior," I told him,
"Thank you."
We are letting the rest of that side of the house alone and believing/pretending that it is O,K. We'll tackle that another time. But for now. . . phew!
I feel lighter. He said, "Close the door." It shut easily. He had jacked up the sagging floor so the door jamb was even again. How in the fuck? I don't care. It is enough of a miracle for me.
I need to take my mother to two medical appointments tomorrow, so I will not make it to the house, but I think he will finish up. However, I'll write about that tomorrow.
I want to show you more images, but I must resist. I have things that are shocking.
That's it. That's what I got. I haven't slept for two full nights, but I think I might tonight. I just want to go to Slumberland.
Deal me a Royal Flush!
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