Actually there is a hole in my kitchen ceiling. Someone left the shower running for too long and the water pooled out onto the floor, soaked through the floor and caused the ceiling below to sag under its wieght. So a duo of workmen came and pierced it, like a blister. The water sloshed into a miss-placed bucket and over the floor.

Today marks the two-week anniversary of that holes' existence. And in celebration another set of boiler-suit-clad workmen came to our house and patched it up.

Papier mache is now all that holds my card-tower dwelling together.