I Know I’m Beating a Dead Brussel Sprout* To Death…

…but I can’t help it.

This is the downside of living alone. There is no one to listen to me as I run through the house ranting THE NAILS, THE DARNED NAILS!

Well, there’s Roxy, but she’s hardly a sympathetic listener. If you asked her, she would tell you that she’d rather the whole banging and bashing just stop and the nails just aren’t that interesting.

Of course, if I chased her around with this, she might perk up.


Seven, SEVEN, 3 inch nails all in only 7 inches of wood. The wood is only 3 1/2 inches wide mind you.

Yes, I’m going a bit mad at this point in the process. You would too if it was just you and a bunch of too long nails and your kitchen was looking worse by the minute. Plus it’s been one of those weeks and it’s only Tuesday.

I’m looking forward to the tipping point when I stop demolishing and start replacing. I’m sure the end result will be worth it, but right now, I’m being done in by nails.


*I’m a vegetarian, so the thought of dead horses makes me sad.  Dead brussel sprouts, now those are just tasty!


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