Reorganisation

I've been meaning to move those bookshelves for months, but my sticking point was moving all the books first. Ten shelves, double stacked... you can see my problem. I don't think the small girl set out to help, but she emptied the first shelf most effectively, and somewhat more quickly than I would have done.

Perhaps I should have explained the myriad of reasons why I hadn't wanted her to do what she was doing, but it wouldn't necessarily have stopped her having another go when my back was turned. I should have known, though, especially as she's such a chip off the old block, and I was an incurable shelf-climber too. Needless to say, a double-stacked shelfful of books on her head gave her pause for thought - at least while she drew breath for the wail.

Anyway, she got me started on the book-removal process, and my bookshelves are now happily reinstalled on the opposite side of the room. Now, having painted two walls already, I can paint a third.

This is part of an exciting development in the Room of my Own saga: having undergone a domestic rearrangement towards the end of last year, I suddenly found that I didn't have to convert the loft to find my own space after all. It might have taken me a while to start getting organised (been proper poorly, long term, as has my dad)*, but things are obviously on the up: not only have I moved the books today, but I am blogging again too, see?

*Thank you to those who have kept in touch by other means. Your messages have been much appreciated. I can assure you that I am now, finally, on the road to recovery (as is my dad).

A Gentle Return

There hasn't been much to blog about really. I've been poorly since January, and you didn't want to know all about that, did you? That's not to say that I haven't been doing anything, I just haven't had the energy to bore you all with it afterwards. Now I'm finally starting to get some strength back, I'll tell you what I've been up to writing-wise:

I've written quite a lot: been keeping up with my Story a Fortnight, and working on the novel(s) too.
I've subbed quite a lot: this is good. I subbed virtually nothing last year (though I wrote loads).
I've done a Della course: can't recommend them highly enough.
I've been to a couple of book launches: any excuse to buy books and drink wine, eh?
I've made use of my camera: as part of some Tom-Foolery-inspired photographic walks.
I've chilled with blogmates: a girly weekend with Helen (in which Spiral Jen played a rather drunken part), and a day with DJ, Troy and Mrs Troy, and various associated children.

I have also, by virtue of some domestic rearrangements, discovered a Room of My Own without my having to convert the loft. More of this later.

My list of Things to Do this year include: London Book Fair, Flash Fiction evenings, Novel Racers' Meet, SaF Meet, another Della Course, and Isle of Wight trip with DJ +N3S, Calistro's book launch (hint hint, Calistro), and no doubt much more.

Do you have any writing/blogging-related events planned for this year?

Firm Foundations

And so, whilst trying to make space for my laptop, amongst all the stuff that has crept back onto my desk, I realised that my tidying-up dominoes were all still lying along the same path, still leading to the loft.

To that end, I went back to the DIY store, and came home laden with twelve packs of tongue and groove boarding - weighing 14kg each - yes, I weighed them, after carrying the first eleven from the car to the loft - and a box of 100x no.6, 40mm wood screws (I just love dazzling you with the technicalities).

Some days later (I don't know how many; I lost all sense of time) I clambered back down the loft ladder with a painful case of housemaid's knee, builder's back, and a rather wild stare; but a loft you could walk across with your eyes closed.


--Take Your Life in Your Hands--------------Boarded!

And so, I ticked another one off the list of...
Jobs to be Done in the Loft:
1. Put lights up
2. Put boards down
3. Tidy up
4. Contact builder/electricians/window people/carpet people to quote for work
5. Plasterboard loft
6. Watch builder/electrician/window people/carpet people do their jobs
7. Struggle up ladder with furniture
8. Relax with nice view over the Sussex weald, and a large glass of Merlot
9. Get writing!

Easy, I thought, on to number three. Ahem...I've been having a bit of trouble with number three. It has developed a number of sub-clauses, not apparent when I originally wrote the list:
3a. Open loft hatch
3b. Pull down ladder
3c. Climb ladder, and stick head into loft space
3d. Switch on lights
3e. Survey loft, and decide upon Tidying Order-of-Events
3f. Switch off lights
3g. Remove head from loft space, and climb back down ladder
3h. Push ladder up
3i. Close loft hatch
3j. Walk away quickly, hoping that there have been no witnesses
3k. Tell lies about how much time has been occupied by children/work/domestic chores all day
3l. Add 'Tidy Loft' to tomorrow's list of jobs

Return to Planet Real Life

Thanks, folks, for your nice emails and comments.

The main reason for my silence has been a massive website-redesign job (100 pages + 244 supporting files), which has occupied all but three of my evenings (7pm - midnight) for the last five weeks.

Of those three evenings off, I spent one critting a short story for Jane (remember 'short' in Jane's world equals a full-length novel for the rest of us). Another evening I spent in the pub, having completely freaked out after a too-long day of rain and grumpy children. The third evening I spent in the company of Harrison Ford (oh, and about three-hundred cinema-goers, sadly).

I have also boarded the loft in the quest for a room of my own (photos to follow), and written a shorty.

Now, I'm knackered, and I need a lie down. Excuse me. I'll be back again soon.

And Then There Was Light!

I'm good at procrastinating in all areas of my life, and Sorting Stuff Out is no exception. But recently, I have been rather overwhelmed by work, and everything else has slipped, including my writing time. This has focussed my otherwise befuddled mind (in a way that cheerios on the carpet never do), and I have been trying to work out why I haven't cleared out all the junk as was my ambition six months ago.

These are the excuses so far:
1. Can't clear stuff out - need to organise stuff first.
2. Can't organise stuff - too much of it in the way - need to put some in loft first.
3. Can't fit any more stuff in loft - must tidy loft first.
4. Can't tidy up loft in winter - too cold.
5. Can't tidy up loft in summer - too hot.
6. Can't tidy up loft in spring or autumn - too dark up there anyway.

Thus, it was with a glowing heart that I selected £16.82 worth of bulkhead bayonets and two-ply cable from our local DIY store (sounds technical, doesn't it? Made me feel Very Knowledgeable).

"Are you fitting this yourself?" The girl on the checkout asked with a frown.
Fearing a health and safety lecture, (or worse, being told that it was illegal for me to fit lights in my own loft) I lied. "Oh," I said airily. "Just buying the bits. Electricians always rip you off, don't they?"

She seemed satisfied by this reply, and I consoled myself with the fact that I hadn't actually told an untruth; I was just being a tinsy bit deceptive. (I don't want you to think, Dear Reader, that I am a Dishonest Person. I'm not. I'm just not very good at receiving lectures from HSE-wannabes without SHOUTING before they've finished.)

I spent a couple of hours fitting the lights. And I think they look splendid. Sadly, having eliminated the 'too dark' excuse, the others have fallen like dominoes, and I shall now have to do Clearing Out.

Watch this space - for space there will be!


-----------Darkness-----------------------Lightness

Wish me Luck...

Today, I'm going to switch off my computer (unprecedented), and Tidy My House (nearly unprecedented).

If I don't resurface tomorrow, please come looking for me; I'll be buried in the small boy's room (upstairs right), under a pile of soft toys, brio train track, and dirty socks.

A Room of my Own: Progress Report

Yesterday, himself helped me clear the tops of the bookcases; we found lots of lovely stuff to throw away:
• manuals for software that we don't have anymore.
• fourteen empty box files (yes, I'm sure they'll come in handy one day; that's the problem)
• a duplicate copy of Chamber's Dictionary.
• a box of (get this) 3.5" floppy disks (I haven't used these since I was, ahem, at uni.)
• two dozen ZIP disks (ditto + a few years).
• loads of free computer-magazine CDs for Mac OS7.5 software (PC users, read: Windows 3).
• a broken "Pete-the-Repeat" Parrot (he's great actually, but we have a working one too)
• a rather large quantity of dust.

The bookcases are on my side of the study, but himself didn't let that worry him as he pulled everything down, and dumped it all on the nearest available surface for me to sort. His part of the job took approximately eight minutes, whereupon he left me to do the rest. Consequently, my beautifully clear desk now looks like this (again), and I can no longer see my picture of the loft.

------------Before-----------------------After


I'm wondering how many times I'll have to ask him to do something about it, before he does something about it...

A Room of my Own: Progress Report

I have been doing so well.

I have blitzed the kitchen, the utility room, and the study. Well, my side of it anyway; I don't go over to the other side, because don't have access to any rough-terrain gear and Kendal Mint Cake just now.

------------Before-----------------------After


See that lovely leather-topped desk. See the shine on that beautiful formica gate-leg table; isn't it wonderful?

You might just be able to see in the second picture that I have stuck that photo of my loft on the wall, where it will provide inspiration should I start to show signs of slacking.

While clearing my desk I have thrown away:
1. Eight years' worth of interest-rate-change notifications from the bank.
2. Forty-six opened (and, thus, empty) envelopes.
3. Reams and reams of paper with absolutely-nothing-of-any-interest written on them.

I have so far resisted throwing away:
1. Our most recent bank statements (which I would dearly love never to see again)
2. Old Christmas cards (particularly those from people who are now dead).
3. Any of my children's drawings/scribbles/paintings, even though I have no idea when, or by whom, most of them were made (or even if they're by my children at all).

I have also caught up with eighteen months of personal correspondence (aka hand-written letters on Basildon Bond). I am particularly pleased about this, because I am very fond of all my ancient aunts and not-so-ancient cousins, and I like to hear what they're up to, as well as bore them with all my news (children/children/children + photos of children).

I realise I have now become my grandmother, and look forward to inflicting on the family, Sunday-afternoon readings of letters from people that the kids have never heard of. Marvellous.

I have a Dream

I have long held this dream, and it is for:

in which to write.

Now, all the rooms in our house are occupied by small children and/or their stuff. The garage is full of man stuff, and the shed (which is supposed to be mine) is full of man stuff that doesn't fit in the garage.

So, the only other place is the loft. Here is a picture of our loft.



You will see that the loft is also occupied by stuff (please note my fine collection of empty cardboard boxes) but, seeing as there is nowhere else to put any of this stuff, because everywhere else is already full of stuff, I have decided to

THROW STUFF OUT
As an obsessive-compulsive hoarder, I have never thrown stuff out, and I get a bit shaky just thinking about it; but, for the chance of having my very own place, for all my stuff (and in which I can hide away with my laptop, of course), I have decided to become a new me. A me who no longer keeps the cloying but-it-might-be-useful-one-day stuff.

To that end, I have in the last few days thrown away my collection of tumble-dryer fluff, 186 empty plastic bags (I had to count them first, mind), and the outer packaging from five-years' worth of nappies (don't ask, I don't know the answer). This is a good start. When I've had a cup of tea and some chocolate, I might feel brave enough to chuck some more.

(Today's Message posted at 10:22)