We have a home restoration crew in the house. They’re repairing all the water damage we got before we put the new roof on the place, so it’s three days of drywall dust, fresh paint smell, and dog hysteria at Castle Frostbite. Add to that mix two kids who think that anyone coming through the door wants to know everything about Thomas the Tank Engine and Winnie the Pooh, and you have an environment that’s not very conducive to writing. I’ll be staying up late for a few days to get some work done in the living room, when everyone’s in bed.
After we’re done with the repairs, the plan is to move the kids into the smaller of the downstairs bedrooms, and use the bigger one for a combined office for Robin and me. Their current bedroom—the future office—is quite spacious, and having only two kid beds and a dresser in there is a waste of all that space. (The kids play all over the house, but mostly in the adjacent second living room, which we call the “sitting room.”) When we claim that big bedroom as office space, we’ll finally have enough wall space to put up bookshelves and unbox the majority of our library, which has been stored up in the attic since we moved in. I mean, how are you supposed to know it’s an office if the walls aren’t lined with books?
And yet another $NON_TRIVIAL_AMOUNT of cash later, another part of the house is hammered into shape. At least the homeowner’s insurance paid for the lion’s share of this one. Slowly but surely, Castle Frostbite is turning into an adequate and proper dwelling.