...has a whole different meaning when you have ME. Usually it condemns you to several days in bed; this time, two days on the sofa, and counting. Having gone out on Friday night with my son and husband, to see Jethro Tull, I then compounded it all by going out on Sunday for a coffee. We did a little essential shopping, and then had a chat with our neighbours. And now it's Tuesday, and I won't be doing anything about this little lot...
The black shelves were originally bought to use as larder shelves, as we have a large walk in cupboard in our (badly designed) kitchen. Turns out they're too wide (thanks to the skirting boards; I ask you, who puts skirting boards in a cupboard?), so I have inherited them. My fabric will sit on the pine shelves; my CD player (yes, it's old fashioned, no, I don't care) on the black ones, somewhere in the middle, surrounded by hat paraphernalia, such as feathers and hat blocks. The tiny rattan drawers hold lace and other bits and pieces for hat making, too, such as combs and headbands. The smaller pine shelves won't stay in that corner, but will move to the other side of the room, and will likely hold paints and the like, though I hope to build a summer house for painting. Given that we're in dispute with the builder about the garden, though, I'll be lucky to get that this year, I suspect. Dammit.
The real challenge is where to keep the rolls of sinamay and other fabrics. Some of them will lie on the top of the shelves, as they're not terribly wide, things like printouts from Bertha. The rest, I'm not so sure. Probably in a box, where the short pine shelves are at present. Things are coming together, slowly, but I doubt there'll be any progress this week, as I recover from the excesses (hah) of the weekend. Rest and more rest. And a lot of muttering under my breath.
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