I have new bookcases.
Lots of them.
Joy unparalleled.
Who knew, a decade ago, that an item of bespoke furniture, costing more than our annual holiday, was capable of giving such pleasure? Finished on Friday, they now need painting, and since they line the entire length of the dining room wall I suspect that this will not be a quick job. So I will sit amongst the piles of books and general chaos a little while longer yet. Why do towering stacks of books look stylish and trendy in magazines but manage to give my house the appearance of a landfill site?
Daddy is not convinced by the 'home improvement', particularly not the expense or being roped into the painting, so they are going to have to work hard to prove their worth.
Helping to add to the mounds of books without a home, I have been selected as a 'giver' for World Book Night: tomorrow evening as it happens. My book is The Take by Martina Cole, and I have 24 copies to give away. So I am planning a rare trip to the local to begin distribution. They each have a unique identifying number, so if 'receivers' enter into the spirit of it I will be able to track their journeys. Where will they end up? Hopefully not on a rubbish tip...
Currently Reading: A Long, Long Way by Sebastian Barry
Showing posts with label walls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label walls. Show all posts
Sunday, 22 April 2012
Thursday, 17 December 2009
Pencil Power
Gertie found a great new game today.
At first I thought it was really sweet.
She found all the pens and pencils from my pen pot in the kitchen, then lined them up on one of the kitchen chairs, and with a tea towel, tucked them all in to bed. She spoke tenderly to every one individually, commenting on how tired they were and how much sleep they needed.
"Ah, my darling little girl," I sighed to myself, as I got on with my household chores, going past every now and then with a basket of washing or a pile of clean clothes to put away.
It was only later I discovered why the pens and pencils were all so tired, poor things. And I got very, very cross indeed. They were tired because they had been 'climbing up the walls'. The long, arduous climb for the poor pens and pencils involved lots and lots of scribble. And that, therefore, added to the days chores as I spent most of the afternoon scrubbing off as much as I could.
I am guessing that this won't be the last time it happens.
At first I thought it was really sweet.
She found all the pens and pencils from my pen pot in the kitchen, then lined them up on one of the kitchen chairs, and with a tea towel, tucked them all in to bed. She spoke tenderly to every one individually, commenting on how tired they were and how much sleep they needed.
"Ah, my darling little girl," I sighed to myself, as I got on with my household chores, going past every now and then with a basket of washing or a pile of clean clothes to put away.
It was only later I discovered why the pens and pencils were all so tired, poor things. And I got very, very cross indeed. They were tired because they had been 'climbing up the walls'. The long, arduous climb for the poor pens and pencils involved lots and lots of scribble. And that, therefore, added to the days chores as I spent most of the afternoon scrubbing off as much as I could.
I am guessing that this won't be the last time it happens.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)