Meanwhile my birds and the bunny are sequestered in the square box that was formerly my office, waiting for freedom. Books are everywhere. Dust is in my eyes, my sinuses, in my hair follicles and skin pores, etched on the surface of the hardwood floors, clinging to every dish, every knickknack, each centimeter of space.
But I'm happy.
Here's the look of the bare floors on the day of completion:
The kitchen and laundry room