Did I mention that we are having our heating changed? We are indeed. The hot air system we have is appalling, and we are changing to radiators. This is both economic and wonderful, except for the fact that every single room in the house is going to be a) disrupted and b) need decorating after the work is done.
And I have spent the last who knows how many years helping everyone to decorate and sort their homes, and now I have run out of inspiration in a huge way. My only solution is to say I want white. White! Make it white! And this whole house will be painted white, so help me. Where is the Nester when you need her???
Then there is a new bathroom to come too, but at the thought I sort of want to crawl into a cupboard and sit there with a blanket over my head sucking my thumb, rocking back and forth. White! I want white!
Time for a holiday. Or two.
Anyway, as I speak, the plumber is coming to check measurements, and the boxes are piling up. The kids will be here to move anything I want moved to a storage unit for a few weeks while the work is done, because I cannot risk falling over mountains of Stuff. I need to get rid of Stuff. Lots of Stuff.
It is amazing what you find. This is one of a pair of moth or mouse eaten bed socks which I knitted when I was about 7. You can clearly see that knitting was never going to be my thing. So I took a photo of it and tossed it in the bin. Keeping it for 53 years is long enough.
I started packing some boxes today, and managed a couple and it is so humid that I was in danger of melting into a puddle. So I watched Roger on Centre Court. I do love Wimbledon.
I am back. The plumber arrived. He did his plumbery thing, and we sorted the plan of action for Monday. 8am. There is a mountain to move here. So when he left, I packed another heaven knows how many boxes. The house is filling up.
While I was sorting the un-hung paintings and photos, and discarding unwanted frames, I found this photo of me with my Dad. This was taken the night before I left with the children to live in the UK. Geoff was in Hong Kong. 1990. I was 36.
It is a lovely photo. Dad has that mischievous look in his eyes.
I miss him.