so the as-yet-still-unpacked-from-last-year boxes from the cellar in the rented house will be delivered early next week (apart from the one that contained the wedding china - I smashed it up plate by plate, bowl by bowl, dish by dish, with a hammer two days before the move and took it to the dump; along with the one containing the cheap wine glasses that XCH had rejected in favour of the posh wine glasses, which he took with him), I don't know where I'm going to put anything else, as there is not a nook or cranny, cupboard of shelf left, there is no cellar or loft - what makes matters worse is that the as-yet-still-unpacked-from-last-year boxes contain my treasured possessions - rather than the everyday bric-a-brac - my art books, my photo albums, my poetry books, my novels. . . perhaps I no longer "need" any of it (altho there are many things I have sorely missed over the last year) and should just take it all to the dump; the rubbish piling up into a mountain of discarded debris at the front of the house has been removed by a kindly man and van, at not too great an expense to my somewhat crippled bank account; the furniture order, that I had paid for in full, is to be delivered after all - tho still no news on the deposits on the rest; the loo that was broken in the boys' new shower room, is now mended - an "hour long" job turned into one that took a whole day; the mother cat hid four of the five kittens and it took us ages to find which nook and cranny she'd put them in, before we could return the one that was left all on its own pathetically bleating in the basket in the kitchen. . .
The Teen got some reasonably good marks in his exams and is now expressing interest in tidying up his new bedroom (wonders will never cease) (altho, not surprisingly, he wants to paint is black); Middle One received a Gold Certificate in a National Maths Challenge (which means he's in the top 6% of the country) (altho, not surprisingly, he was disappointed, because last year - when he took the same test in the village school - he received the "Best In School Certificate" too) (he is his father's son, it seems), he doesn't want to even redecorate his room - no new curtains, no lovely colour on the wall, he likes it plain (he really is his father's son); Smallest Person moved all the kittens to a dark spot under her bed, but then the mother cat moved them back to her chosen nest, SP now wants to rearrange the weekend evenings she spends at her father's so that she can have her best friend and another for a sleep over in her new bedroom. . .
and I'm just knackered; all on my own, in a little nook, bleating rather pathetically. . .
have a Crunchy folks
happy Friday. . .