November 13. Sunday Night.

Hi Journey.

Friday: a day to make me wonder if and when sleep would ever come. Or, as Case used to ask when she was little and we told her it was time for her to count sheep: “where do the schleep live before they visit?” Believe we set a new project-cramming record. Let me tell you, Journey, I hope it's a record that stands a long time.

Mrs. McBride gave me the call at 9:30 on Friday morning. Happily, Shelly's morning appointment had to postpone their meeting. I grabbed Shelly and we ran out to Mrs. McB's home in Briarfont Place . We talked to her a couple years ago about a kitchen retrofit, but the family decided to go on a cruise so they pigeon-holed the project into their “future-things-to-do” drawer. Back then I was handing out refrigerator magnets with my biz card affixed. Two years later, and she still has it on her fridge holding a picture of her husband and son holding a big swordfish. Go figure.

Shotgun Wedding. Two weeks. Oldest daughter found herself a tad preggers last month. She fessed up two days ago that she and her boyfriend have decided to get hitched.

Wedding will be at Holy Family Episcopal Church. They're only inviting close family and immediate friends, so they've decided to hold the reception at Mrs. McB's. Of course, Mrs. McB's current Great Room is completely inadequate to host such an affair.

I couldn't agree more.

Shelly and I wrapped up our initial interview by noon. We slipped through a Mickey D's on the way back to the shop—

--yes, Journey, I had a walnut salad and a chicken sandwich. And maybe half of one of Shelly's cheeseburgers. OK, you know she usually orders an extra one because she knows I'll mooch a couple bites. But I am trying to get better. Really, I am.

Shelly and I researched independent of each other for a few hours. She played with fabric swatches and paint chips, I played with shears and blinds and dimmable track-lighting. It rained a little this afternoon, so it was cloudy enough that I couldn't go out to the front window of our shop and play with treatments in the sunlight.

We wrapped up the bulk of the layout by Five. I buried myself in the manufacturer's price sheets, running numbers, pulling the estimate together.

At 6:00, Mrs. McBride rang my cell. Now she was worried that the foyer needed some slight alterations. And did I think the floor was alright or did something need to be done about that. And maybe the wallpaper in the foyer was waaay too busy.

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