intertext

I've just been hit by the full extent of the upheaval I'm facing by having renovations done on my house.

Don't get me wrong; I can't wait. The interior of my house is unbelievably shabby, suffering from years of neglect when my mother was living in it and it was impossible to move for all the "stuff." It's taken this long to kind of psych myself up to the final amount of clearance that is needed, and to stop feeling guilty about doing this for myself (and, to be honest, I haven't quite got that bit yet).

But even though I've cleared out about 50% of what was here, there's still an enormous amount of "stuff" left from my mum - about 1000 books, teddy bears, good china - most of which is in my basement. Then there's my own "stuff": another 1000 or more books, my dishes, dvds, some knickknacks, camera equipment, all the non-perishable food in my kitchen... you know. Thing is, they're going to be tearing out my kitchen, dry-walling in my living room, the kitchen and the bedroom, painting throughout, new floors and other things. So I'm going to have to pack it all up...

And I've really only just realized that of course it will be easier if they do the whole thing at once, or that the various bits - ripping things out, dry-walling, painting and so on - are all done at the same time in the whole house. I, you see, had had some notion that they could do one room at a time and I'd just move from one room to another. Which I know they _could_ do, but realize that ultimately it will be faster and therefore cheaper if I were not here and they could do it all at once.

I had already decided that I was probably going to go and stay in one of my friend kp's holiday flats for at least part of the time, and I'm now thinking that the more I can stay away probably the better. I can easily take Tabitha with me. I'm not so sure about the dogs, because although kp has said I could take them, they are, you know, dogs, and they bark and they need to go out in the middle of the night, and the apartments are up a steep flight of stairs that Zoe might not won't like (nor will Robinson, for that matter) and there isn't a fenced yard, and there are paying guests who may not want barking or whatever... And staying at kp's and more than likely boarding the dogs somewhere is all going to incur more expense, but I'm beginning to get dizzy with all the money that is going to be spent, and heck, what's a few hundred dollars more when tens of thousands are being discussed... And I feel kind of guilty about _that_, too, though I don't really know why, because it's my money, or at least money that's coming from equity that I've built in my property, and I've worked hard and all that, but I still have a lot of trouble doing good things for myself and believing I'm worth it... And I think I need a renovation in my brain, too.

Yikes.

Victoria finally catches up with the rest of the world. It seemed like almost everyone on my Flist, except the Aussies and lilyfriend, benjieblue and globalfruitbat (for obvious reasons) have been complaining about the heat. We out here in the Isles of the Blessed have been basking in temperate climes. Until now, that is. Now it's too damned hot. Oh well, I'm sure we get scant sympathy from the rest of you.

Meanwhile, my home renovations continue apace. At a pace somewhat slower than before (because of the heat) but I'm definitely getting there. The living room and dining room are pretty much done; I just have the pleasurable task now of shuffling books around to their various places. I've decided the bulk of my mother's and my children's book collection will go in the study along with true reference books (books about books, literature, writing, theory etc, and computer books). Literature, novels, poetry, general non-fiction and coffee-table books will go in the living room. Cookbooks (of which I have quite a large number), gardening books (ditto), photography and maybe dog books to go in dining room, along with one shelf full of the fine collectable books because the only bookshelf with doors is in there (it's bolted to the wall - it's an Ikea shelf which I had a hell of a job building because of the doors and don't fancy dismantling and rebuilding anywhere else). Comfort reading (Mercedes Lackey, Georgette Heyer, Rosamund Pilcher et al) and other real old favourites will go on two shelves in my bedroom. Phew. Did I say I have a lot of books?