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Did not paint after all. Got to the house around 7:30 and got depressed (again) at lack of apparent progress, inability to tell what needed to be done. I know things ARE moving, but sometimes it feels like they just aren't. Sat on the roof and brooded for a while, then went and ate raspberry white chocolate ice cream at Ed's Real Scoop, then went home, where my mother fed me and cheered me up.

Jen is organizing painting parties.

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We had a very anticlimactic fire drill/false alarm (I think the latter, given the four fire trucks that showed up and then went away again). Had I thought, I could have brought along the article I'm working on and stayed downstairs to drink coffee.

Walking down 17 flights of stairs is kind of tiresome. Better than 71, I guess.

House update: Wednesday

My aunt reports:

Today John had lunch by himself. (Peace perfect peace, with loved ones far away.)

John got wood for stools for the windows.*

He talked to Ed the floor who would like to come Thursday about 4:00 to do the third floor, same time on Friday to work on the second and first floors so that he can finish off the first floor asap on Saturday.** John talked to William who is fine with this. John has gone off to get paint tinted.

Hooligans went to the house to use the plane and saw.
Cheers, Helen, who had lunch at Le Saint Tropez.

*I have no idea what this means.
**Floors finished earlier = excellent! Less time for painting = not so good. Hmm.

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OMG Finland!

Can't speak. GoFugYourself is love.

(Just to make the icon marginally relevant and so I can find it again: House medical reviews.)