As we mentioned earlier the project of moving the Dougloid Towers about four miles west of its former location was going to take some doing but that wasn't the half of it. This is what a broken left wrist looks like compared to a more or less functional right.
Of course, I didn't know it at the time but it didn't stop much of anything. The project simply had to be done by the end of the month and we finished it with six hours to spare and a fiberglass cast on my arm. Cleaning the old place was an experience that I have no desire to repeat. It was two days of unmitigated hell in large doses, and lucky for us the tenants in the building next door to us had skedaddled and left a mess that required a roll on roll off dumpster which we took liberal use of.
We painted two bedrooms some pleasing shades of pastel, primed and painted the downstairs, applied carpeting to the floor in the downstairs, prepped the garage floor and painted it with epoxy, built me a work station out of banquet tables and repaired and repainted the plaster in the main stairwell all before we could move much of anything in. The moving pretty much took up all the spare space we thought we had, so it's now incumbent on us to reduce our chattels to reasonable levels.
Since then I've become something of a fixer of electrical items, because the 45 year old builder grade wall socketry and light fixtures have needed improvements and repairs that are mostly along the lines of replacing tired stuff. The work goes on apace but it is interesting and challenging. I'm soon to become a glazier of windows as soon as I get a good extension ladder, too.
Every once in a while I pinch myself to see if I'm dreaming or not, and I have to say out loud "No, fool. You're home."