Smell Ya Later....

When one loses something they have been attached to, when something is taken away forever, it can be painful. When the Colts left Baltimore, loyal Baltimoreans wept and wailed and cursed. They threatened and pounded fists in the ground out of frustration and loss. To no avail.
When my dad took my basketball away from me when I was twelve because I had been slack in my chores (mowing the yard, cleaning the furnace, shoveling snow), I thought I would expire considering how much I loved shooting hoops. I eventually got the ball back, but I was by 32 then and pretty much out of the sport.
Recently, at the Carenen Cottage, something was taken away that had found its way into our hearts. We came to think of it as a permanent yard ornament because it had been there for weeks, even months. We grew to like it. The bright orange port-a-potty had become a source of relief for our visiting Clemson friends, a backup for me in times of urgent need when our indoor biffy was occupied by a female, and a beacon visible to aircraft 30,000 feet up to lead us home at the end of the day. It also served as a benefit to the various men working to build the addition to our cottage, much better than hunkering down in the woods and watching out for copperheads and fire ants.
The positive that comes out of this loss is a bit difficult to identify. Oh, sure, it means we now have a functioning second bathroom. And certainly, it means the construction is coming to a close. Good things. But now I'm wondering, how are we going to find our way home?

Carnage at the Carenen Cottage

And so it begins. The systematic renovation to the Carenen Cottage has launched with serious purpose. I took off the back deck, then the grader did his thing, footers were poured, cinderblock secured, temporary electrical hookup installed. This morning three men showed up to rip off the back of the cottage and prepare to do framing for the new. That meant we had to get everything out of the old laundry room and pantry this morning, something we thought would not be necessary for a couple of weeks.
But we are nothing if not flexible. I'm glad they're going at it. The additional space will be luxurious, at least to us, and the flexibility in hospitality will be wonderful. So the hammering, the ripping, the tearing, and the demolishing is going on, perfect background for my writing.
Oh, and the workers have deposited an orange port-a-potty out front, by the blueberry bushes. We're going to tell our friends that it's the second bathroom we always wanted. Beats the woods. Stay tuned for a brief report on how our two cats and puppy (Lily the Wonder Dog) are adapting. This might get ugly.