Deconstruction continued….

I read Also Sprach Zarathustra because John Gardner’s Mickelsson’s Ghosts—a novel I’ve read numerous times—made references to Friedrich Nietzsche’s book, and eternal recurrence. The idea that we are doomed to relive events in our lives over and over frightens me. I shudder to think of a life of endless visits by big ugly scary bugs, and meals accompanied by half bad wine….

***

The contractor admitted the powder door needed to be repainted, and the vinyl floor, which was designed to “float” above the sub-floor rather than being glued to it, was, in fact, doing the crawl. He sent a couple of guys to get another can of paint, and bigger trim to hold the floor in place. More chaos, more dust.

August arrived, and the trench and new shower arm arrived with it, just in time for a visit from family.

They oohed and aah-ed over the addition, even as we pointed out the back door that didn’t fit its frame, handles that came off the new casement windows when one tried to open them (windows which, by the way, had been ordered in the wrong color—did I neglect to mention that? I lose track…), and and and….

The oven conked out again, of course, this time while I was cooking dinner. I decided to admit defeat and order a large countertop convection oven. It had no smart technology, which I counted as a win, fool that I was.

We spent the rest of the summer relaxing, enjoying our new patio, and visits from friends and neighbors. Maybe things were improving.

And then, one early September evening, after one of those visits, I went into the powder room to find a dried yellow stain on the floor, and in the spaces between the vinyl planks.

It seemed Nietzsche was onto something….

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