The floor is laid. Step one of many more...unfortunately. I still need to clean it, wax it, find someone to lay the shoe molding, and move all that furniture and books back down there. And I need to paint the new basement closet doors.

Sunday started with an act of grace from God. My dear friend B stopped by during a longer road trip to say hello and to carry those darned heavy tile boxes from the car to the basement steps. She and her sister hefted the burden that had been weighing down on me.

Of course, I had to then have an asthma attack.

Then came another act of grace. My writing student's parents stopped by to help with the boxes as well. Her father arranged them across the floor for me and then carried more furniture up so the process would go more smoothly.

Then I had an allergy attack.

The floor is, unfortunately, not very even. This meant that the layer of adhesive had thick spots where it took forever for them to set up initially. So, the entire job was not finished until 1:45 AM.

The tiles are heavy. The edges rough. My fingers are still sore from the ones that had to be scored and then snapped off to fit. My back and legs still ache from being bent over for hours on end. Yet...the floor is laid.

The final grace of the day was that my writing student came over in the early evening and worked along side me for about five hours. I cannot put into words how full my heart was at her aid. The process is so arduous, yet she stayed until all that was left were those crazy difficult ones around the doorways that only one person could truly do.

Today, I could barely keep my eyes open at work. I got a call for a job tomorrow, so I will not be able to catch up on my sleep until Thursday. I suspect the minutes are going to crawl by until then...