...to redecorate, that is. We have the packing equipment, we have the painting equipment (while we have an old carpet we're not afraid to stipple with paint, we're going to erase all reminders of the bad "antiquing" job some halfwit perpetrated on our helpless north living room wall)
By Thursday night, the livingroom will be Samba Grey, and I will be happy.
Given the weather, (a judicious mix of rain, rain and rain, sluiced over a thick and ever-less-fluffy blanket of snow,) that represents quite a victory over the forces of numbing mid-winter ugliness.
And, in parting...do all those athletes who give the "glory to gawd" when they make the touchdown/slide home/cross the finish line take gawd to the woodshed when gawd fumbles, trips or misses the bag? One supposes that the losing team takes gawd to the woodshed a remarkable number of times.