G and I had help with the work in the basement yesterday.  The MIL’s neighbor came over with her three kids and a surprising amount of garbage went out the basement door.  I adore these people.  I do wish the MIL hadn’t been such a stick in the mud and had taken a chance on getting to know her neighbors, they would’ve been a great help to her.  I’m sure she’d be ready to kill me about now because I’ve allowed them to help clean things out of the house.

     Hey, I’m not proud and I’ll take any help I can get.  The entire project is an overwhelming task.  However, by day’s end we knew that the conclusion of the job was in sight and you wouldn’t believe what a relief that is for us.

     I do know that if it weren’t for G’s help, I’d still be struggling with the upstairs.  While working at the house on Sunday we were talking about how long we’ve known each other, thirty-eight years come September.  We’re closer than I ever was to most of my sisters—heck, I’ve been around her longer.  I met her soon after DH and I were married and moved into our house.

     My dog scared her and I went out to apologize for his bad manners.  We soon became good friends and the GSD learned he had to mind his manners around her because she no longer believed in his bluster at the fence.