In which I dust myself down

October.

Already.

This year has flown by with out much fan fair or sunshine. I had earlier on lamented the swiftness of time gobbling up 2012, but, I have had a sort of a resigned revelation - I am glad that this year is almost to an end. It hasn't been a particularly good one - not entirely bad either, just not brilliant.

So October - welcome, may your gentle autumnal sunshine and your russet hues mark a more positive end to the seasons.

Our loft conversion continues in a storm of dust and mucky hand prints. It is one of those 'chain reaction' type situations. I'll explain.

1. To start the loft conversion - we had to enlargen the existing hatch to the attic
2. To enlargen the hatch - we had to remove the walk in cupboard
3. To remove the walk in cupboard, I had rescue tonnes of wool and yarn
4. To rescue my precious wool and yarn - I had create a new home
5. To create a new home - I...I....I had/have nowhere, so have stacked boxes shoulder height around our bedroom.
6. Back to conversion.
7. To remove the walk in cupboard - Himself and Youngest had to sledge hammer down two brick walls
8. To remove the walls meant lots of dust and rubble - so dust sheets were laid out and rubble bags assembles
9. To prevent my tearing my hair out - I removed myself outside and cleaned the greenhouse for winter
10. (Which in itself is a major chain of events type job)
11. To remove the rubble from the bottom of the stairs (where it should not have fallen) - bricks and plaster were carried out the front door
12. To remove the rubble from the hall way (where it should have fallen) it was put in the rubble bags and dragged out the front door over the pile of rubble at the bottom of the stairs
13. (Please visualise growing pile of rubble in my garden right outside the door)
14. To actually see 2 foot in front of your eyes through the dust - impossible
15. To vacuum up the mess without killing the vacuum cleaner - near impossible
16. To feel utter despair at the depth of the dust as it lands on everything upstairs (thank heavens I put down dust sheets in the boys room) however - WHO LEFT OUR BEDROOM DOOR OPEN!!??!!
17. To need a week at work to recover - that is saying something.......

Fast forward to the following weekend

Repeat points 7 - 16 then continue with.....

Frequent visits to the DIY store to pick up wall bolts, brackets, wood screws, masonry drill, timber, roofing/loft boards, cement, sharp sand, hooks, and, and and,and..the list goes on.

Watch husband turn into a workman, complete with blaring radio, huge and regular mugs of tea, mucky clothes, a pencil behind the ear and lots of sitting down and thinking/looking/tutting and scratching of head.......

Develop a close (bordering on obsessive) relationship with dying vacuum cleaner, damp cloths and a struggling feather duster.
Become a control freak about doors being shut and windows being open.
Despair over the layer of dust that has just appeared as by magic on a recently wiped surface.
Be close to tears coz you know that yet again your bedroom door is open and Youngest is frantically bashing at a brick to remove the cement bonding off it .... 2 foot away from your bed.

Then.

Then see the smiling face of Youngest as he knows his bedroom is being created and feel his infectious delight as he watches the stairs go up and the floor boards being put down.

There is so much more to do but Himself is quietly (if you don't count hammering and power saws) working his way through it and I make sure he gets a fresh hot mug of tea and a helping hand when he needs it.

I just have try harder not to let him see how wound up I am getting AT THAT DUST grrrrrrrrrrrr