The Who
When I was first told that the almost-in-laws would be joining us for an extended holiday, I was concerned. I worried about sleeping arrangements. I stressed about touristy activities and how I could keep them entertained while PSWC was at work. Then I fussed about finances, and birthdays and, well, you name it. I went through every conceivable scenario so many times in my head that I figured I had all of my bases covered.
Yeeeeah, not so much.
The Duke and Duchess arrived safe and sound. They are sleeping in our spare beds, have celebrated several birthdays with us, and if anything they have lessened any funding issues that have arisen. That is all completely wonderful. Unfortunately, however, my planning on the activities side of things appears to have fallen short of the mark.
I let them get bored.
I didn't keep them occupied.
But this is, of course, not an issue for them as they have found a way to occupy themselves...
The Doors
They are systematically stealing my doors.
This is amusement plan B, which is infinitely preferable to plan A. Plan A involved my kitchen becoming unhygienically close to the cat litter box for an undetermined amount of time due to the complete demolition of a dividing wall, rendering my laundry more of an abstract concept than an actual room.
When the suggestion was made that perhaps it would be best to complete some low impact renovations, I thought it was a much safer plan. I mean, the vast majority of the house would stay intact and our daily lives continue unhindered, allowing everyone to enjoy the holiday. No worries! A window lock here, a speaker mount there, it'd just be the odd bit of drilling and maybe a lick of paint. It would be the kind of weekend renovation stuff that would mean I could avoid playing site manager and retreat to the sanctuary of the study and focus on my course work.
I don't know what I was thinking.
With my study door removed so it could be chemically stripped of it's paint right outside the study window, and the pitiful warmth being generated by the antiquated two bar radiant heater being sucked down the hall at a frustratingly constant rate, I can't say I was feeling all that studious.
Not content with passively freezing my tootsies off, it was decided that multi-tasking was the go and thus, the bathroom was also stripped of it's flaking paint while the door dried in the sun. I was being attacked on two fronts with my defence perimeter confiscated and being painted a pleasing shade of cream. I found my headphones and loaded up last.fm and typed in "doors". It seemed appropriate.
You can imagine my surprise when, halfway through Light My Fire, I realised my world had turned a lovely shade of lime with bouncing purple spots.
What had started as a happy little wet paint scent had morphed into a full blown ammonia assault, the likes of which even our most industrious cat would be hard pressed to match.
I did a somewhat fuzzy calculation regarding the likelihood that I would be able to extract both myself and the large glass box (in which my hermit crabs are currently moulting) from the room, and concluded that such an action might best be left to those that could feel their lower extremities.
It seems that perhaps our shower screen glass was a little dirty or something.
The Moody Blues
I'm not quite sure how to say this without coming off like a spoilt ungrateful so-and-so. I suspect there is just no avoiding it. All this (very wonderful, necessary, appreciated) house tinkering has got me alternating between unsettlingly easy-going and wanting to tear strips off anyone who so much as breathes in my vicinity.
I like my space.
I need my space.
When the world gets too much to deal with I can always come home to my little nest, shut the door on the big bad world, curl up in front of whatever, and believe that everything is that tiny bit more rosy than reality would have you think.
Of course, it all goes to pot when you are freezing cold, high, and doorless*.
I want my nest back. :(
*the door has been returned to it's former position with a new coat of paint and a fancy new silver handle. There is not a skerrick of the old painted-over-poster job to be seen and to be honest it does look fantastic. There has been no thorough testing of this latest release of the door however, so I'll be running some long term tests on how it functions in the 'on' position. You can't be too thorough with these things.
