I am wrecked. Oterly and tutterly wrecked. I promise never to curl my lip at the men who dig trenches and lean on their shovels ever again. It is hard work.
It looks like we're going to be hammered again with rain on Saturday, similar to that of Sunday, so it was imperative we initiate some flood abatement methods. That meant digging a trench along the driveway and at the back of the house.
Fortunately, my b-i-l is here and assisted with the shovelling of mud and the vacuuming of excess water out of the carpet - and the shifting of furniture. Because of the continued humidity and showers, the carpet is... damp and only dry in parts. With the weather conditions due to deteriorate, it's not going to be completely dry any time soon. Do I even bother given we've decided to replace it? The carpet is robust and has weathered a number of floodings - the underlay, not so much. Who knew when it gets wet, it smells like dead fish?
I broke the bookcase, so that will have to go. It's made of particle board, and when I tried to move it, the top shifted but the bottom didn't. It broke neatly under one of the shelves. This is my first bookcase; one that has moved house with me for more than twenty years. Heavy, unwieldy, it has hosted my favourite reads for two decades. But now... I don't know whether to keep as a truncated bookcase or buy a new one.
The what-not is doomed - also particle board - and the top, glassed in piece is squashing the soaked bottom part. (I don't know what the proper name for it is, but I'm guessing it's usually used for the storage of dining-ware.)
The good news is that only four books perished - some Betty Neels of my mother; I'm hoping I can replace them for her.
I've yet to get to the back storage area... that is going to be ugly because I know I stored stuff in cardboard boxes. It can wait, the outside is more important.
So. I've been kept busy, especially with the kids I'm looking after at the same time. I currently have three under ten, one teenager and four adults - two of whom are unable to help out. All leave tomorrow.
It feels like it should be later than the middle of January; I've been on the go since before Christmas. No writing, no reading, no work at the museum.
My youngest sister is arriving on Saturday with a ute to cart away the wreckage; my oldest sister is coming Friday night to help with the back room and furniture moving. We'll have a couple of kids again, too, for the weekend.
Sigh. I need a day off... Maybe next month.