It took all of one single day of total lockdown. I knew to expect it, but I'm still startled at how quickly it happened. He has already started tearing at the walls.
I was warned last week that he wanted to reconfigure the pantry in the utility room. It had two L-shaped shelves at body height, that ran from the left to just past halfway, and one long shelf above my head that ran the whole distance. This afternoon he dragged the table saw outside, saying T was clearing out his garage and had some particle board that would be perfect for shelves. Within an hour, he had emptied the tightly packed pantry of all food, ripped out the existing shelves (probably kicking up some lead paint chips in the layers that he exposed), and set me on deciding how many shelves and with what spacing for the new layout.
The cats didn't appreciate having every countertop covered with bags and boxes, especially when dinnertime came and went. Still, they were attentive and good-natured as we worked around the Four Trip Hazards. In no time at all, we had five total shelves, four accessible ones spaced according to the height of a tall olive oil bottle from Costco, and the original long shelf moved up and back. Some old hooks that had been in that closet since the 1960s were moved over, so I could hang my potatoes and onions in a spot where they were less likely to be lost and rot. (I'm going to make some macrame hangers in the long run, but the store net bags work for now.) I was too tired and overwhelmed to worry about organizing too meticulously. It was more important to clear the counters and finish making dinner for us and for the cats. Maybe in a month, when we have eaten up much of our reserves, I can pull the food out, paint the shelves and walls, and then reorganize in a way that both makes sense and doesn't make me feel like a paranoid doomsday prepper.
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