house rules

I always figure there is some kind of story behind corporate policy. For example, when Karin and I visited the house yesterday and Steve informed us that effective immediately Jayman was getting ultra-strict about house vists, well… You just know there’s a story behind that. I mean why else would it suddenly be imperative that we have a chaperone to look at a construction site that is NOW the relatively safest it’s ever been. Autumn trapsed along with us, tip-toeing in four-inch heels through the mud and gapped-wooden planks leading up to the door. Why else would she do that? You’ve definitely got to wonder if some moron (probably in Calgary) didn’t fall into the pit of his basement or jab a nail through his foot or sink waste deep into mud. Sometime last week, someone did something stupid and — voila — new corporate cover-your-ass policy emerges. And now, to get more stunningly gorgeous pictures of our house we need a tag-along.

We’re probably going to avoid the place for a couple weeks now, anyhow. Mudding, taping, painting, and texturing are all on deck for the next two weeks and I have enough trouble breathing in the dry spring of this province these days, as is. I don’t particularly need a chemical burn in my lungs.