This weekend was an exciting one.
When it rains it pours, but in my case I was showered with fluffy white puff.
It all started on Thursday when I woke up and noticed, through my visions blurry haze, an awkward shadow on my bedroom's ceiling.
A heavy box sitting on lighter boxes in the attic finally succumbed to gravity and left a delightful dent in my ceiling a foot + wide. So on Saturday my brothers and Dad ventured to the attic to clear everything out.
I sat at my computer to avoid the chaos, preparing to work on a blog post, when I heard my Dad right above me, a scuffle, a slip, a yell, a clash, and suddenly there was white fluff falling all around me. I looked up to the sight of my Dad's foot sticking through the ceiling.
So I did what any good daughter would do: I grabbed my phone charging on the other side of he room and took a few pictures, not even asking if he was alright. Because I'm nice like that . . .
The hole itself is rather large.
That white stuff is magical because it managed to travel every which way in my room.
I'm still being gifted with the occasional white puff.
(You can see the vent from the house's side wall.)
So this is my momentary solution: a board, trash bag, and ducktape. My brother Robbie helped put it all together.
But even now I'm having to reapply the ducktape because it's not staying put.
Why does ducktape have a glorious reputation?
No comments:
Post a Comment