Wallpaper stripping complete. Often when I'm in that zone of satisfying task accomplishment, my brain drifts to other things. Sometimes I compose lists in my head for other things that need doing. Sometimes I belt along with the music. Sometimes the music is playing for any and all to hear, sometimes it's merely in my head. Either way, the cats are frightened. Sometimes I drift off to the land of memory. So yesterday I was remembering that when I installed this wallpaper that I was bellering along with Sarah McLachlan. Building a Mystery, Angel, Adia, Sweet Surrender, I Will Remember You. While I carefully wet down each section of wallpaper and smoothed it into place. A project such as this was helping me maintain some level of sanity as I worked through the current state of my life. In that zone where familiar work frees your mind. We were in counseling but I was painfully aware that my marriage was over. The relationship that I risked my marriage for had ended abruptly. I was outcast from from my life as I knew it. But my bathroom was going to be lovely. Yesterday as I stripped down each section of paper that had been so lovingly and hopefully installed, I felt like I was physically stripping away the pain and isolation I had been trapped inside seven and a half years ago. Today I'm on to phase two, washing down the walls to remove any last vestiges of adhesive and then repairing a few nail holes in preparation for painting. I'm in a Bonnie Raitt kind of mood so I'll need to grab a cd or two. Seven years ago my hands were strong and capable, up to any task. But my heart and mind were weary and sad. My hands, now weary and sad, work in concert with a heart and mind that are happier by far. Resolute. Resilient. Rejuvenated. If you'll ignore a tired and obvious metaphor about stripping away the layers of an onion to find what lies beneath I would truly appreciate it. Because I'm pretty sure that's what you're thinking about now. All I know is, in a week or so I'll have a lovely bathroom that suits the now of me.