Tomorrow the fire marshal inspects to see if we have a fire extinguisher, and whether or not we've removed those annoying tags from all the pillows and sheets. At some point after that we'll actually be able to bill for my quarter million dollar travesty.
But you know my proudest accomplishment of the week?
Fuckin' A that was a tree in sections Sunday morning, and by Sunday sunset I could barely make a fist with my right hand.
The knots in old trees in the pacific northwest are bigger than the trees in New Mexico.