In order to clear my mind, we (yes, the whole household has come along for this particular ride) must first clear the study – a fancy name for a room with two doors, one directly across from the bathroom, the other leading off the kitchen, and together forming a most excellent circuit for young boys, with or without underpants on their heads, chasing each other around and around around.
In order to clear the study, we must first clear the studio – a fancy name for a lined, but leaking shed.
And in order to clear the studio we must first clear the shed – a fancy name for a small toolshed down the back, unlined and also with a leak.
Boxes which have moved from house to house to a shed in the Riverland while we were overseas, then from house to house to here, have been dealt with. Finally. Treasures uncovered. Boyfriend catchers from Mexico and the shoes I wore on the trans-Siberian train. If I blog them, I say, then I can throw them out. Long-standing what-should-we-do-with-these puzzles solved. The towels are rain-damaged now and put in the hard rubbish pile. A box of glasses we got as a wedding present. Who did give us those? No, no, I’m sure it’s our wedding, not your twenty first.
So, that’s the shed. Next week, the studio.
Ahhhh, house cleaning. Don’t you love it? I always get distracted by poring over old treasures and memories. The Husband says I’m a hoarder.
Is this writing procrastination?
I think the following deserves elaboration:
>Boyfriend catchers from Mexico and the shoes I wore on the trans-Siberian train.
Do you get in these binds where you want to clean the floor, but you can’t because first you would need to get all the muck off the tables and shelves in the room (which otherwise would just get on the newly cleaned floor), but you can’t do that because some of the stuff needs repair, and you can’t do that because something else is missing… and in the end you would practically need to restump the house to get the floor done.
No? it’s just me then.
My current version of arriving at the restumping-the-house moment is that I’m convinced that the old termite damage (in situ when I bought the house and still ‘only old’ when I last had a termite check) really has finally been joined by the new termite damage, but before I get the pest people in, I have to book the cats into the vet for a sleepover (inside cats who are freaked by strangers and banging, particularly in the roof) and clean up the study, which is a wild horrid mess with stuff all over the floor, beacuse it’s where I put the overflow from all the other rooms, except that before I do that I have to get ahead of schedule with work. Hahahahaha. By the time I am ready to call the pest people, the house will need restumping.
Actually, by then the house will need rebuilding.
My current version of arriving at the restumping-the-house moment is that I’m convinced that the old termite damage (in situ when I bought the house and still ‘only old’ when I last had a termite check) really has finally been joined by the new termite damage, but before I get the pest people in, I have to book the cats into the vet for a sleepover (inside cats who are freaked by strangers and banging, particularly in the roof) and clean up the study, which is a wild horrid mess with stuff all over the floor, beacuse it’s where I put the overflow from all the other rooms, except that before I do that I have to get ahead of schedule with work. Hahahahaha. By the time I am ready to call the pest people, the house will need restumping.
Actually, by then the house will need rebuilding.
I’m a hoarder, but am being firm with myself. In theory, this is to stop my procrastinating. It is pretty hopeless trying to work in a room which is such a good circuit for my boys.
Helen, well indeed. Yes. Plus, now it’s so dry the cracks are getting bigger and the back right corner of the house is sinking. Noticeably. But we aren’t taking any notice. PC, that sounds serious. When we lived in the hills, we had termites approaching our house through the phone line, but they never quite got to the house. If you do need your house rebuilt, I know an excellent engineer.
When we lived in the hills, we had termites approaching our house through the phone line
What, they rang up and asked to come over?
That’s very, very funny Helen.