Storyteller's World

At last the decorators have finished and gone, leaving us feeling like beached whales amidst the jetsam of our rearranged possessions, which not content with filling the 'temporary' shed in the garden (I fear this may be rather like the wartime prefabs that people were still living in 50 years later) have overflowed into every room in the house. You can't move without stepping over a pile of books, yet the books can't be returned to their proper homes till the shelves have been dusted. The books also need dusting, to say nothing of serious weeding to throw away duplicates and those that have just become terminally grotty and unreadable.

It will probably take weeks to get back to 'normal', or any state that passes for it. In the mean time, it's impossible to find anything because it will certainly have been moved. This looks like becoming the most promising excuse that has come my way for a decade or more.