Tin Ceiling

I continued working on a tin ceiling today, and I did little else but read about the Great Boston Molasses Flood of 1919, and a little cleaning.

On the way to the job, in a building I once lived in, I was stung on the knee by one of the very same wasps who I moved off the street and into a bust the other day, where it had been thrown down by the hurricane. the pain when the bite occurs is no joke. I was riding on my bike and screamed for a moment, smashing the little demon with my hand.

And in the old 1920s vintage building, where I'm giving part of its ceiling a long-overdue restoration, the old and the new tin will both get painted. I'm rooting for silver, but white will probably win the race. When I lived upstairs, yellow jackets lived just outside the front window, between my ceiling and the roof. No one connected to the building could remember a time when the creatures did not swarm out from under the clay tiles, which was over 20 years. They were high up and never stung anyone, and to remove them would have been expensive, so it was never done.

I didn't notice the yellow jackets today, but then again, they didn't send down a soldier to stab me.