To save money on the house project, we are the subs for a few of the tasks. Sanding is the current seemingly non-ending procedure. All the posts and beams and arch braces of the frame must be sanded and all the floor joists and rafters must be sanded. This would usually be a light once over sort
of thing,
except the house sat open waiting for a roof for about 10 days of rains so there is surface mildew and there are water marks that need a deeper sanding. As a recovering acrophobic,
I am doing only what I can reach from a 6 or 8 foot ladder and other family members are doing the rafters and those beautiful arch trusses with the carved acorns from 10 foot ladders and scaffolding. I have been sanding for weeks. I dream about sanding. Not literally, but I have those dreams where I walk and walk and walk and get nowhere then another where I drive and drive and drive and get nowhere.
After I had one where I was eating pasta and the bowl was not getting emptier, I realized they were more than the usual unending movement dreams: They were about sanding and my feeling that by the time we get to the end, the wood where we started will have yellowed and we will need to start all over again . . .
To save money on the house project, we are the subs for a few of the tasks. Sanding is the current seemingly non-ending procedure. All the posts and beams and arch braces of the frame must be sanded and all the floor joists and rafters must be sanded. This would usually be a light once over sort of thing, 
except the house sat open waiting for a roof for about 10 days of rains so there is surface mildew and there are water marks that need a deeper sanding. As a recovering acrophobic, 
I am doing only what I can reach from a 6 or 8 foot ladder and other family members are doing the rafters and those beautiful arch trusses with the carved acorns from 10 foot ladders and scaffolding. I have been sanding for weeks. I dream about sanding. Not literally, but I have those dreams where I walk and walk and walk and get nowhere then another where I drive and drive and drive and get nowhere. 
After I had one where I was eating pasta and the bowl was not getting emptier, I realized they were more than the usual unending movement dreams: They were about sanding and my feeling that by the time we get to the end, the wood where we started will have yellowed and we will need to start all over again . . .
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