Today was spent hacking away at our painfully cluttered existance. Jmk cleared the floor of his workspace, only to dump popcorn on it. Every hour like clockwork a pile of something over there looses its composition to gravity. Nasty sliding noises, seemingly bone-crushing thumps, and once something metal hit the pole over there. If the accompanying yell is too urgent I think he is injured. I'm no better. I have moved the wood for two projects to where it will be cut, and there it sits. The first warm day catches us too cluttered to open our front door leading to the street without my feeling like a freakish curiocity, and no time to sit in the courtyard. At least theres the celling fan.