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Back August 29th, 2008 Forward
Himself is away at Capel today.

This is a good thing. Otherwise I'd've murdered him.

A bit of context for this. We're selling the house. The home open is tomorrow, which means we've been spending most of the past week frantically depersonalising the place, in preparation. The aim is that tomorrow, the house will look as much as possible like a display home.

To this end, Himself has been picking up and packing up just about anything he can lay hands on, and taking it over to his parent's place, which is about two streets away. They've just headed off for six weeks in Europe (lucky them), so it isn't as much of an imposition as it could be to be using their house as a boxroom in this manner. I've been staying out of the way, since it seemed he knew what he was doing, and all I'd be doing was getting in the way. In addition, he started this process while I was out of the house on Wednesday (attending a job interview), so by the time I came home, it was pretty much a fait accompli. This, of course, did nothing for my sense of security, which meant I wasn't particularly receptive to the whole notion.

I should have been more active.

Today, since Himself is out of the house, and I've a bit of time to myself, I decided I'd do some cleaning and preparation work for the whole "home open" business myself. I'd planned on sweeping and washing the floors, doing the dusting, emptying all the bins, tidying up the kitchen, and baking up a quiche to take on a picnic tomorrow (I'm going on the picnic in lieu of attempting to survive the home open).

So far, among the things I've discovered have been "packed" or "cleared away" are:

* The mop (so much for washing the floors - the majority of our place is tiled, and there is no way known to mankind my knees and lower back are going to put up with the business of me washing every single inch of floorspace by hand).
* The plastic shopping bags we've been using as bin liners (possibly I'm odd, but part of the whole process of cleaning, as far as I'm concerned, is emptying the bin. It's made a bit more difficult when there's nothing to line it again).
* Every single piece of picnic equipment we own (blanket, food carriers, cutlery, paper plates, serviettes, etc, etc, etc).
* The plastic crate which held the onions - as well as the onions inside it. (That one went on Wednesday - thus ideally showcasing the remarkable lack of thought which went into the whole damn process).

As I said above, if Himself had been at home, I'd probably have murdered him by now.

Current Mood: pissed off beyond belief pissed off beyond belief
Back August 29th, 2008 Forward