There’s ceiling on my floor again
But it’s not nearly as terrifying this time.
Chronicling my adventures restoring and updating a quirky old Philadelphia rowhouse
But it’s not nearly as terrifying this time.
“I wanted a fire with dinner, and you put a #&%$ing trash can in my living room!” The trash can was filled with firewood. And by firewood I mean construction waste. Specifically, wooden construction waste that had never been painted, varnished, glued, or pressure treated. My poor mother has agreed that it can all go…
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