My Little Golden Book of Phobias

My house is a disaster. The back is gone (hurrah) and there is cement dust everywhere and giant piles of wood and bits of wood and old siding and what all. Wires hanging down. This is all good. My dance retreat starts today and goes all weekend. The katz have fleas and I must get some flea stuff for them. A house guest is arriving and I have to vacuum the couch so she'll have a place to sleep (and hopefully she won't get covered with flea bites).

The foundation guys are outside as we speak, talking in loud male voices about concrete things. I will soon have a new set of stairs to the basement, the cavern they dug will be filled in and they will be gone. Jim and Rob, the two bearded grey haired, balding men with glasses (BGBG) will arrive to continue pondering and ripping off siding and hammering wood and uncovering 'irregularities' in the old house (hahahahahahahahaha). Apparently, I need a tiny 'ramp' into the addition because there is a 2 inch discrepancy between the floors, compliments of the do-it-yourselfers who proceeded me.

The dog has a baleful look on his face because he needs/wants/must have a walk and I'm still in my pajamas.

Ah, Italy: