Dust, dirt, grime, and chaos

It is coming to the end of the third week of the floor replacements, and I think there is at least another week to go.  When Fernando and Colin left yesterday, they had put most of the kitchen floor in, fitting it underneath the kitchen cupboards, which, mercifully, they had not had to remove, but which required agility and awkwardness in the insertion of nails and glue. Not to mention doing things from underneath the floor.

I looked at their progress in mid-afternoon, and thought, Hmm, I don't think there is enough timber left to finish it. And so it proved. Some more has to be ordered and I presume that it might not arrive for a few days. Once the floor is in, it all has to be sanded and sealed, and that will take days for it to dry.

The timber, even in its unfinished state, promises to be beautiful.

There is an eerie silence in the house, punctuated only by the sinister sound of relatively quiet key strokes on the keyboards, and, from outside, the whoosh of the passing cars.  I have not yet restored the music station - in my absence the blokes change it to some sort of commercial pop station, which certainly is not music to my ears. But I think, well, it is hard and dirty work, and if it helps, that's fine. I just don't want to hear it, that's all.

They won't be here until this afternoon, so I am enjoying the silence.

I am now able to clamber into the kitchen although reaching into the pantry is requiring caution, as does getting from the dining room to the kitchen/eating area. I need to hang on to the cupboard tops, while carefully placing one foot after another on the joists. Imagining falling through them and lingering helpless until discovered does not require a particularly vivid imagination.

The dust and grime and chaos are getting to me. I want it all clean and organised. The furniture is all pushed together, and I cannot retrieve my concert ticket for next week until better access is available. At present a table is upside down on top of this piece of furniture, and even though I wriggled through to it this morning, it is not possible to open a drawer. I itch, fret, and ache to restore order.

Tonight a friend and I are going out to dinner. Last night I had cheese and biscuits and some sultanas. And some nice red wine.

Yesterday I succumbed to total stress and panic, as I needed to find my referral from the GP to the specialist for next week's breast check-up. Pile after pile of documents were examined, and confusion reigned. I knew I had put it somewhere.

Finally, a dim memory surfaced. It had been necessary to take everything off the bookshelf so it could be moved. Its contents went here, there and everywhere, and then I remembered putting the plastic box containing my pills, prescriptions and YES!!! the medical referrals, into the pantry. This pantry is in the furthest corner of the kitchen and I could not get to it until late yesterday. But now I have it, safely in my handbag. At least that is one minor problem solved.

But as I prowl around looking at the state of the house, I become more daunted. Smears of glue are on walls and other surfaces. Will they come off?  And a cupboard door is hanging awry.

I have to get out of here. Off now to do some food shopping, and to have a coffee. There is nothing like domestic chaos to provoke pensive and profound ponderings on the meaning of life. Answers remain to be discovered.