A Three-Kleenex Kind of Day

Poor Bo-Beau. He's had a rough couple of days. His routine has been disrupted and his couch-sleeping has been robbed from him.
Since sometime before Christmas, we've had some black mold growing in our living along the line of the wall and ceiling.

The mold. Adam popped a hole in the wall to find out what size thickness of drywall he needed.

We hemmed and hawed about what to do. We'd had so much work done and redone on the ceiling and roof already. We certainly did NOT want our old contractor to return. But how to find somebody else we could trust? And would someone come to do such a small job? Finally, Adam said he could probably do the work himself as long as I wasn't too picky about the end result.

Picky? Me ... picky? I'm not that kind of picky. I live with three dogs in a house with paint-splattered, scarred floors and walls with wallpaper half-ripped off of them. I'd be happy to have the black mold cut out. Anything after that is just gravy.
So we draped up the living room:

And removed the curtains. He cut out the moldy drywall and fitted in a new piece.

He gave it a first taping and mudding.

At this point, not wanting to be a pesky wife, I quietly went to the back room to weave. After a while, I hear a strange sound. Drip. Drip. Drip. Apparently, there's a leak.

And this is how life generally goes for us:  a bit of good accompanied with a bit of bad. A freak hole appeared in the ceiling (new ceiling, no less!) and began to drip. This after a day of gully-washing rains and 40 mph winds from the south. I do believe this area of living room ceiling will be a bane to our existence as long as we're in this house.

Anna was not dissuaded by the sheets on the furniture. But as I said, Beau was quite disturbed. He came and hid in the back room when I was weaving.
When stressed, Beau tends to daintily remove dirty kleenex from my bedroom waste paper basket, chew them gently, and leave them on the floor. He was very stressed. It was a three-kleenex kind of day.

Adam is now finished with the taping and mudding, and tomorrow he'll sand and paint the spot. The leaky hole in the ceiling remains for the time being. It probably won't leak again until another 40 mph south wind comes along. Meanwhile, you know you live in a construction zone when your kitchen dish-drying rack looks like this:

Beau is hoping life returns to normal tomorrow.