I thought Charles had glued ripple potato chips to the wall during this phase of the ever expanding reno. But nah, it’s glue of some sort that held the sheet of a rubberish pinnable surface. I see brother Bill’s cell phone number was written there in ink. It will be fifteen years since he passed at the end of this short month. I miss him no less than I did fourteen years and eleven months ago. Finding this surprise was nice. It’s covered over now with new dry wall ready for what’s next in this kitchen and more years missing Bill and smiling while thinking of him.
