Our man Jovan arrived as promised with another comrade in tow (I never got his name, but I'm guessing by the time we're done we could be pretty close). We were as ready as we could be, without our living room kitchenette ready for action. We pulled out the appliances and brought the fridge into the doorway of the living room to complete our new 'kitchen.'The the destruction began. I tried to hide in the office and the banging, sawing, crashing and ripping began in earnest. Punky was in a full-on panic for hours, eentually settling in on top of my feet and the cords under the desk, and George (in proud cat fashion) vanished. By 6:30 Team Jovan had called it quits and I pushed past the tarps to take a peak.
In a word-- Dresden.
Cabinets and appliances out, and nearly all the walls and ceiling plaster piled up in the gangway. Jovan said he had a truck coming in the morning, and I hoped so, or my neighbors were going to turn on me long before I expected them to. Slats and wreckage covered the floor to a depth of a couple feet. All the lights had been removed so the photo evidence is pretty sketchy, but is what not a place you'd want to linger.
Unless you're a cat.Upset that his access to back yard was blocked, George spent much of the evening knocking away our diligently placed covers and wandering the destruction. And whining. Lots and lots of whining. DeeDee and I had a lovely dinner of leftover tortilla soup and enjoyed one of our last few nights in a bedroom. They're underestimating how much destruction there was might buy as a couple more days in a big bed. Yippee.
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