… and it grows …

While the young’uns worked on finishing the desk, Widow Dressing took her bottle of Howard’s Feed-n-Wax (she didn’t know Howard, and didn’t want to). Because of Dry Climate and Thirsty Wood, she and D thoroughly rubbed a good coating of it into the five bookcase shelves and all the outside and drawers of her granddad’s pie safe (this is extremely time consuming, in case you don’t know, and takes a lot of rubbing) as well as the chest of drawers and the small walnut whatnot cabinet. It would be much better for them than sitting around drying out in the 25% humidididity in her house, although she wasn’t much looking forward to the twice or so a year they’d need it because torn rotator cuff. Hers, not the wood’s.

So left-handed, carefully, she rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, then found a big pile of three-layered paper/plastic/paper in the Moving Mess to put under them to protect rug and hard floor. The shelves could sit there a few days, soaking stuff in, before she rubbed and polished to clear off the greasiness and make sure the books wouldn’t get stained. The pie safe could soak as long as it wanted to.

She intended to rub down the chest and the big Craftsman bookshelf, too, but what with the aforementioned &#)@&5^@!!!!d mess, she flat ran out of time and she was NOT staying up ‘til midnight–not after she’d dragged her groggy, sorry ass out of bed at 7 so she could Get Things Done.

The Widow decided she was going to eat some Lindt balls, and put the newly purchased ice packs on her shoulder, watch junk TV (wait for me, René!), and knit. By damn, she needed to knit.

Then Widow Dressing realized she’d not written anything amusing in weeks. She was still furious, but apologized anyway.

P.S. You’d be amazed how much the pie safe has already absorbed.

Posted by wordsmith

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