So this post is less to do with my writing and more to do with personal experience, therefore I’m categorising it as a diary entry of sorts!
My complete lack of writing-related material is due to the fact that my husband and I have just moved house and I’ve had no room in my mind for anything but Cif cream, tester paint pots and the constant question of ‘where are we going to put everything??’.
In 2010 we moved from a two-bed apartment in Dublin to a three-bed end-of-terrace house in Kildare and could not believe we had ever managed to fit all our possessions into that little apartment. Now in 2014 we have transitioned to a four-bed bungalow and it seems that everything has expanded in size in the meantime because we can’t figure out how even the three-bed house had been able to contain it all.
We are currently living out of boxes and suitcases and muddling along in a perpetual mode of ‘now, which bag was that packed in…?’. Each day is peppered with periods of ten minutes lost in the search for an elusive item buried underneath a pile of other things we don’t need (until the next day when we do and can’t remember where we saw them last).
I’ve been told that moving home is the second most traumatic thing a person can experience, after a bereavement. It can’t be denied that emotions run high during such an upheaval – excitement at making a place our own, shorter tempers when things don’t run smoothly and, naturally, sadness in departing the previous home.
When we left the apartment in Dublin after living there for two years I shed many tears but these were compounded by a factor other than fond farewell – builders came in to improve the plumbing system in the whole apartment block and when we came back to collect our last few bits of furniture the place was unrecognisable with radiators ripped off the walls and plaster and dust everywhere. Not the nicest memory with which to leave a once happy home! Parting from the house in Kildare was even harder – we had been there longer and it was the home from which we got married in 2012.
But now we have purchased our ‘forever home’ and are looking forward to enjoying many wonderful years here. We have yet to sort out curtains or beds or wardrobes but high on the priority list had to be…the library! At last we have a room entirely devoted to all our books, and it was a lot of fun to put it together.
Of course, the library had to be organised in alphabetical order by author/editor, no question about that. And to do things right, the volumes really must be catalogued chronologically within that framework. (Yes, I know, I know, let’s move on.)
One slight drawback with this project was the fact that each book I picked up presented a distraction. Progress tended to be slow if I found one that was particularly intriguing so I had to be very firm with myself.
Incredible, a book about a woman who survived the sinking of the Titanic and TWO other ship disasters. (Stop looking at the books.)
Ooh, great premise, what would have happened if Japan hadn’t surrendered in World War Two? (Stop looking at the books.)
Ah, Watership Down, I haven’t read that in so long, I might just have a sneak peak at my favourite chapter… (STOP LOOKING AT THE BOOKS!)
It was really interesting to note the trends across the books my husband and I have collected over the years. The biggest sections turned out to be K (King), P (Pratchett) and M (Martin – not George R.R. but, ahem, Ann M., the author of the Babysitters Club series… *hangs head in considerable embarrassment*).
And here is the final product!
There is actually another full bookcase out of shot as well and it’s possible we may yet need to get another one. Well, we’re not going to stop buying books, are we?