Yay! My new porta-potty has arrived, and I’m doing a happy dance.

Just as camellia blossoms have been the first sign of spring in my front yard lately, the arrival of a porta-potty in front of my house is the first sign of a remodel project about to get underway.

Porta-potty. Honey bucket. Outhouse. Call it what you will. For the people on my street, it will be a blight on the neighborhood for a while.

But for me, the arrival of my very own porta-potty (a Honey Bucket, in this case) is a sign of a long-awaited project finally getting underway.

Jon and I did quite a few home renovations — indoors and out — over the years. This time, it’s the upstairs bathroom that’s due for a re-do.

It’s the only bathroom on a floor with three bedrooms — and it has no shower, just a tub-shower.

Stepping into a wet and slippery tub-shower, I’ve decided, is a bad idea for the likes of creaky-kneed me. A nice, big stall shower with a bench and a wand for washing my feet is in order.

Everything is ready. A contractor has agreed to do the job. The finishes — tile, flooring, vanity, countertop, hardware, mirrors — are on hand. And there’s a porta-potty out front, ready to go.

During the pandemic, our porta-potty went away — then came back: “Hallelujah! Our Porta-Potty Is Back. Construction Work Resumes.” That major remodel was finally completed a few months before Jon died: “Take a Look at Our Remodel — It’s Finally Done.”