I haz an egzorshon

His clothes are finally all packed then I looked down and there's no way I'm packing up his shoes.
So just in case you thought I was kidding about the hall way, here's proof.  Just beyond that hatbox which is balanced on a box of something, there is a door.  Once upon a time I could walk through here to the kitchen.
This afternoon I managed to store the curtain rod behind the sofa bed and put a couple of rolls of material in a corner until I remembered I hadn't cleaned the carpet yet.  But I do have half a sewing room and now that his clothes are packed I can use the bookcase in there for some of the stuff that's down here.
The ladder can go in the laundry and the ladder in the laundry can go in the carport.  The books will have to wait for a while.  These bookcases are Ikea, useless for books of any great weight so I have to transfer the novels from the good bookcase in the study to here and transport the weighty tomes back there.
So far I have not got one perfect side to this Rubik's Cube of a clean up.
And to top off the day, I dropped an egg on the kitchen floor.
And tomorrow is mother day.
And coffee and cake day.

Toil, I still toil.

 Wondering where I've been?  In this cupboard, specifically the shelf containing fabric and believe me there's twice as much in there than there was. The rest is lace, expensive lace that is almost unobtainable now. The horrible fact is that at some stage it all has to come out or I get 4 huge blokes to move the whole cupboard to the middle of the room and back again after the wallpaper has been striped off and the wall painted. It's something I don't have to worry about just yet as the BOH and the little mother will take at least a year to organize themselves a place to live so I continue to co-exist with all his clothes and furniture.

The view from my chair. Books, slippers, empty boxes back from mother, lots of things back from mother and washing on the chair. I've been too busy folding up his clothes and packing them away to  fold mine up. Don't look at the curtain, the long and short of it. The cat did a wonderful job of shredding when it moved in and I have a beautiful pale ivory voile to replace this pathetic lot and it didn't have a hem or heading. No matter thinks I, it's only straight sewing.  I bought it two years ago, notice that, two years ago and I haven't been able to get to a machine since. I even lost the bag containing the curtain fabric but it's now been found and I'll get to it soon, maybe before Christmas, maybe. The one thing you won't notice is the floor full of DVDs, they're packed away at long last and now just the books to stack neatly. It would be nice to put them in the bookcase but that's down the hall past the stepladder, more  books, material in 6 huge plastic boxes on wheels, wooden curtain rod, and videos. The TV's still working well considering 'hernextdoor' told her husband to put it on the nature strip for junk but it wandered in to my house where it was welcomed with open arms.

 

Behind my chair, the dining table. It's under there believe me and see that small black area in front, that's where I work on my jewellery. The table was turned the other way which gave me about 2 feet of space to move in but yesterday, I picked it up (carefully) and took 20 minutes to turn it bit by bit. I was hoping the legs wouldn't fall off with the weight of it all but not even a piece of paper fell to the ground. That's my new necklace ready to be finished on the purple.

The whole place looks worse than it actually is, no, not really, it is bad.  It's softened by the Haversham affect of draped cobwebs and layered dust. The Hoover has still not been operational, after I moved the sofa bed I had to sweep again and pick up more dead socks. I think I'm just about ready for it though because the treadle machine is in the middle of the sewing room and the sewing machine will be there tomorrow. Did I say that last week?  Honestly this house is like Rubik's Cube, impossible to get all in order without moving this and that and moving it all back again until the problem is solved and I was never any good at Rubik's.

Every night I plan what to move the next day and hope it fits.  Like I said, sewing machine tomorrow along with four large boxes of ribbons which will go in the spot vacated by four of his large boxes of precious goods. The tv that sat on the treadle machine went on the small table on legs that went against the wall just nicely with enough room for those 4 boxes.  

I love it when a plan comes together.

Round in circles

That's what it feels like at the moment and I know superhouseworkers would laugh at my methods but there is a pattern to this.
Question one was do I take up where I left off two years ago in the sewing room or do I try to jam twice as much in the lace cupboard?  One look in there at the one shelf dedicated to patchwork fabric and one look at what had to go in now and I had my mind made up for me.
So I've been sitting and cutting with some success.  5 bags down to 2 is good, even better is one large garbage bag full of little scraps of no use.  This all came from Mum's and was lovely cotton but not enough to make something big but enough to cut into squares for scrap quilts. Hard core quilters look away now, if the square didn't fit one way then I cut it on the bias, a real no-no in the quilt world but not in mine.
I must digress here for a moment. I walked past a resident at the home last week and thought how bright and cheery he looked with his rug and realised it was the rug I'd crocheted for my mother-in-law 35 years ago. I had taken out the cigarette burned squares and turned it into two smaller sizes but it looked great. So who cares if a few material bits are on the bias, with my sewing it matters not.

On top of the to-do pile and it might not be soon is something special for Andrew but it looks like I might miss the birthday deadline.  Never mind, by the time it's finished he'll be the bright spot at the retirement village.  I have 3 quilts to finish but first remove the TV from the old treadle machine which is the only thing heavy enough to take a 50 year old all steel machine.  The sewing table on wheels is okay for the 30 year plastic one.  Both of which I had repaired, oiled and reconditioned ready for use, you guessed it, two years ago.

Other genius things I have done this week.  Worked out that if I put the cupboard that I am doing up, which won't get in the sewing room for years because BOH and the little mother have to find a place to live, in the middle of the carport then I can put the chipboard from the sofa bed on top of that and I will have a work bench. That's after I remove the nuts, bolts, spanners and his riding boots off the top of it.  I swear every time he couldn't find a screwdriver he went and bought another set.  And he was amazed that I managed to get the mattress and chipboard upright. "How did you do that?", the knowledge that he wouldn't get around to helping me for another two years.  Same thing about the drawer that is taking the place of the cupboard. I plan first. I knew the lid came off, chipboard, and the drawer came out, leaving the framework of good Ash and I just carried them all to the carport.  Mind you it wouldn't be outside in the weather if a certain ex had had enough brains to ask the carpenter for a solid wood lid on what was the bottom of a huge wardrobe that his grandfather had made as part of his apprenticeship at the end of the 19th century.  Sorry, off track again but I do have the dressing table that went with it and M-in-L told me never to give it to him. The old boy made the cupboard sideboard as well.

After that I swept the dirt, dust and long hair off the carpet in that room.  Lovely rose colour carpet but it's a magnet for things that stick like cotton threads and long hair and even the Hoover can't suck it up.  While I had a broom in my hand (shut up it's been a long time) I did over the kitchen floor, thinking how much space there was now that the baby change table and drawers were gone.  "Light bulb" and I was dragging all the things I'd bought for them that had been living under the dining table forever including enormous box of dinner setting for 8 and now I don't have space in the kitchen but I do have space for my feet when I'm working at the dining table.

And after all that,  the house still looks like a bomb went off.

I really must do something about the fly and spider graveyard behind my bedside table.

Stormy weather

We just had a deluge here with water coming over the spouting like Niagra Falls and now completely gone.

Don't you just love Melbourne.

I am in the middle of trying to do 2 years housework in 2 months in case of worst case scenerio like hospital.

I went to see Doc Marvin yesterday.

A handful of scripts and a puffer for trying to rid my lungs of left-over virus and I was ready to leave when I mentioned the burning under the skin of my hands, the right one is much worse than the left.

He turned over the hand and I have a very bad carpal tunnel going on.  The burning is nerve pain and I have a flat spot at the base of my thumb where the muscle should be.  It has wasted away and that why it's easier to lever off the top of the vegemite with a screwdriver instead of unscrewing the lid.  It's why I can't hold a book, peel potatoes, pull out weeds and get the lid off the gin bottle, all of which I tried on Monday. Glorious Monday, sunshine and me in the garden at 9.30 trying to pull weeds.

So now I have to go to some specialist to find out how bad the nerves have deteriorated and whether muscle therapy will help or it's day surgery to fix the problem.

I don't care if it's half hour surgery, it's hospital and I swore I'd never go back.

He said they'd put my arm to sleep, no general knock-out.

Ah, there must have been a look on my face, he also said they could give me enough happy pills to stop any anxiety and panic. 

I'm telling you there aren't enough happy pills to stop me being anxious and having a humongous panic attack even if I can't feel anything in my arm.

Pain is my friend as I try to clean up the bear pit of the lodger.  I managed to stand the mattress upright then the chipboard, forgetting to lean the chipboard and the whole lot started towards me and I'd have been flat on the steel frame but I fought valiantly and won.  OMG, what was underneath that bed.  Socks, a jacket he thought he'd lost, dust, his hair, 8 of my plates and bowls and cutlery and 3 tea towells. 

I brushed down the sofa bed and folded it all up, then I unfolded it and put in the bloody mattress then I folded it up.

I looked in the fabric cupboard for the first time in two years and started to put away all the latest patchwork fabric. Ouchie and more ouchie, pain in hand, burning, pain up arm and all from folding fabric.  

Looks like I bite the bullet and make the appointment as soon as possible. Damnfeckdamn.

On a good note, I've seen the baby.  He is a sweetie, lovely shaped little head, long fingers, ideal for a pianist or a pickpocket, chicken legs and long feet.  They seem to be coping quite well and Doc Marvin is the only doctor they want for him. I think the Doc was quite chuffed at that.

I have mother all squared away.  I took all her little boxes off her and tore them up.  She now has 6 large boxes and believe me that's downsizing for ma. I brought all the spare cards and paper home and she only gets back what she uses. Bad enough doing my housework without doing hers. 

And sister, yeah, great help.  Couldn't care a fig, more or less said suck it up and this after two years of me having her kid here, rent free.  Now you see why I buy her birthday present in January because by September we are rarely on speaking terms.

And what's really killing me is the two parcels that arrived from America this week containing my new glass paints and glossies. I was going to get started on my painted canisters (moccona coffee jars) and wine glasses and candle holders. The glossies were for dollying up the gnomes in the garden. But I'm stuck with two years of housework.

Another thing about this stupid complaint is that I can make jewellery with pliers and wire but can't thread and knot pearls.  Thumbing through 100 or so craft magazines didn't help either.  Pulling the ring tops off vodka cans is okay but squeezing the orange juice is a bugger.

Best Olympic photo ever

Brass medal to the suggestion that we'll win more medals if children are forced  to do sport at school.

I was forced to do sport and hated every minute of the time I spent on the ground after falling over or off equipment.  Falling from the uneven bars left me winded and thinking I was dying. I nearly broke a leg falling over the hurdles and they weren't even upright. I had big boobs, running caused injuries to anyone near me.

Swimming wasn't bad but I kept forgetting which side I had to breathe and usually swam to the bottom of the pool.  Diving?????  You couldn't get me to climb up the ladder.  Basketball, forget that although I wish I could forget falling on asphalt and skinning knees, elbows and knuckles.

So you could say I'm not in favour of forcing anyone to do sport if they're not suited to it.  It would be like forcing sporty types to do needlework.  I haven't forgotten the PE teacher who nearly broke my neck forcing me to do a forward roll over a vaulting horse. I like watching the gymnastics but I feel the pain again after all these years. Woman truly was a bitch.

I didn't buy it.

Mum had a friend buy it for me and it was delicious and I only had one slice, large.  The rest we gave to our favourite nurses for their evening cuppa.
My granddaughters rang for my birthday, lovely surprise.  Both are doing well and making their own way in life. Their mother is in Botswana, with a church group, building houses for the poor.  Considering the way in which she brought up her own girls, she's racking up Karma big time.
Not a groat left in their Trust Fund, money that should have lasted until they were at least 20.  Not after she picked it clean.  Eldest granddaughter using information I gave her, checked with the Trust and found out the whole deal.  Mother dearest might have provided receipts and invoices for items bought but nothing stopped her from selling them on and keeping the cash for herself.  She even did this with the house the Judge demanded she buy for the children.  His mistake was not putting in writing that the house was to belong to the girls or if sold, the money should be returned to the trust or another house bought. She sold the house exactly 12 months later to avoid paying tax on the sale and pocketed the loot.  I have never forgiven her for that on a long list of 'not forgivens'.
I cost me a fortune to make a will tying up this house and money so that she could never get her hands on it and it went to the girls.  Even then they weren't to have it until they turned 25 but it looks like I will get to see them reach that age, terrific.
I am always polite to the bitch when I meet her, secret knowledge makes me serene and she will never accumulate enough Karma to undo the damage she's done to every person who ever crossed her path.
Just thinking about it upsets me and I wish I still had that cake.