The new face of husband

It scares me.  A lot.  And I don't mean the curtains.

 

He scampers off every morning to bash things at the new house, and I stay here to listen to the bashing made by littler men.  Don't think I'm not dying of jealousy.

Can you just feel the man-pride.  Nothing like a crowbar to make a dude feel tough.

And, because my husband is clever in many ways but seriously brain-deficient in others, he did this work in flip-flops and managed to get 3 puncture wounds on the bottom of his foot.  Of course, I googled 'lockjaw' and found images like this historic painting of a sufferer...:

... had a minor heart attack and called the dr's office to make sure that his shot was up to date.  Luckily, Chris will not be contorted into the position anytime soon. (Although the calves are remarkably similar).

Oh well... all in a days work.

Yesterday, he called me actually gasping and squealing, having found the original front doors in the basement.  They are huge and wooden and very-energy inefficient, but he's convinced we can use them again.  We'll see...

That's the news from here.  What treasures will be uncovered today?