So my fluey cold ran it's course, helped along with liberal doses of 'day nurse' night nurse' and hot toddies (day nurse is a cold medication here in the UK). I stayed in bed for a couple of days, and wished I had stayed there longer, because when I got up, I turned awkwardly and twisted my knee. So here's the scenario, the great cupboard (closet) conversion is underway, what I totally forgot to take into account when planning this, was the fact that the stuff already in that cupboard had to go somewhere. We live in a three storey house, and I have a twisted knee. So I am limping and hobbling up and down stairs, with armfuls of stuff, pathetically looking for a new home for it. Nowhere on the ground floor, hobble back up to the top of the house, hobble around up there for a while, pull down the ladder leading up into the attic, look bleakly at all the stuff already up there, limp back down and pull out a black trash bag. So I furtively shove all the stuff into the black sack, ready to take down to the charity shop. "What's in there?" asked Mike suspiciously (he is a squirrel and hates throwing stuff away), 'Just junk' I say airily, praying that he doesn't open the sack and see the tuxedo that he almost but not quite fits into, and the hideous vase that his mother gave us once for Christmas.
So the man comes to start the cupboard, now gloriously empty. Much drilling and cutting later, he puts up one shelf, oops, it seems he has measured it wrongly, so the carefully planned design just doesn't work. So now, he has gone back to his drawing board, and we are left with a house in a state of indescribable chaos, and a lot of black sacks that are now going to be smuggled into the car to take to the charity shop. Sod's law decrees that we will have an invitation to a black tie function in the mail, oh dear, where did I put that tuxedo? Do you think he would believe me if I said an infestation of huge tuxedo eating moths had chomped it all up? No, maybe not.