Over at the burnt-up house, interior demolition is DONE.
I’m still kind of amazed how cathartic the demolition phase has been. It’s like excising a tumor, or sloughing dead skin – I feel cleaner without all the dirty insulation and burnt can lights hanging from the ceiling. I expected to feel more loss with the interior of the house gone, like, “It may be dirty and smelly, but it’s MINE and you can’t HAVE IT.”
It’s funny, even after I describe the extent of the demolition, I still get asked, “So, are you still living there?”
Um, no. Because mama hates camping and loves running water. Also electricity.