Gutted

I’m sitting in the under construction chaos of what was once my living room. My thighs are screaming from all the down low work I’ve been doing pulling up nails and staples to prime the floor for the new material. I swept up bags of dust from years gone by and make the not so far fetched connection that perhaps this is the reason I haven’t been able to sleep in my own bed without allergy meds for awhile.

This morning was particularly brutal in that as I was ripping out the carpet from the hallway by myself, our kitten Ingrid snuck out and zoomed up the tree in our yard. It’s a tall tree too, not easy for me to get access to climb. I spend about an hour trying to talk her down from a step ladder and filling the family in, before resorting to messaging my neighbors. One lady offers me her taller ladder on her way to work, and another one holds me steady the two few kids troubleshoot how to lure her lower. They get long pieces of construction wood and smear it with cat food to get her to the lower branches, laughing about how much fun this was ( I was not having fun) but the do manage to get Ingrid to a spot I can nudge her into the cat backpack and relief! We rescued her without calling in an emergency.
I promised the kids to treat them to ice cream later as a thank you before returning to face the looming project of ripping out more staples from the hallway and carrying up more cases of material to lay down for when the guy helping us heads this way.
Making progress even with the detour, but much relieved I didn’t lose my husband’s kitten.

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