Joint Compound(ed)

The joint in my index finger is compounded.
It's probably fractured or suffering from some other sort of injury.
Honestly, it's hypochondria, but doctor, it hurts.

Norman Oklahoma can calm some of these pangs.
The moon blessed us through the clouds. Beautiful.

Moving forward. The cabinets, as we said before, are local and they are being delivered tomorrow afternoon. The installer called and demanded Friday morning with wreckless abandon. Ok, he wasn't that demanding, be it was convenient for him and we need to buck up and get this done.

As you've read, we ripped out the last of the old kitchen on Saturday. Now we are working arduously to get the walls spackled and finished so that we can paint before the cabinets are installed.

But guess what I did? I bought 5/8" dry-wall and our kitchen is 1/2".
I swore to everything that is holy that I had the right size and I couldn't figure out why things were not level. But here we are, face to face, a couple of tarnished spoons.

Now I have to level all of this dry wall so that the cabinets will fit. Good Lord, can I save some time somewhere? "No," God answered.

So these pictures reveal why our backs ache and our minds wander....to a place where vegetables can be chopped with a false sense of sous chefery, and Pad Thai can be Stir Fried with silly ignorance.



Hush now. Don't doubt our ability to conjure up some tasty Asian Cuisine.