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Ow. Wobble.
12/9/05 08:52Some days I just, you know, have to get some things accomplished, no matter what.
Yesterday I was very busy. Left the house at 9:30, got to IKEA, and bought some small stuff for the Younger Girl's room (a new wastebasket, hamper, and reading lamp) and a big new desk for Sarcasm Girl. Then went to Costco and laid in various supplies (nothing says happiness like 3 months worth of toilet paper) and came home to make lunch for all. Then the furniture moving started.
It is impossible to move YG's bed away from the window--and frankly, her room is so small that even if we did get her bed somewhere away from the window, it won't be far enough away if an earthquake happens. We must simply cross our fingers and hope. So we moved all the other furtiture around into a more pleasing conformation, and found the right place to hang her new electric guitar (my nine-year-old wants to be Patti Smith, or maybe J.Lo, when she grows up). Then Spouse and I moved her desk downstairs to the basement. This was a complex manoeuver that required use of the little red wagon--the desk is part of a bunk bed set, sturdy as hell and hugely heavy. So we managed to get it out the room, onto the wagon, took the wagon out the back door into the patio, then around the side path and thence into the basement/garage. Only felt my back ping once. We rebuilt the whole bunk bed in the basement, now that all the component parts had been liberated, preperatory to having a garage sale in a couple of weeks.
Next: getting Sarcasm Girl to finish emptying her desk. When that was done (it took several hours and much pleading) we carried her desk downstairs to YG's room and installed it there. Put the ancient iMac on the desk, plugged it in, it still works. Life is good. Back pinged again.
Then SG and I went down to the basement and brought up the two boxes that contained all the bits and pieces of SG's new desk. It's got four drawers, a hinged door, and a hinged keyboard drawer. SG began to get frustrated at not perfectly understanding the language-free directions from the get-go. I'm pretty good at deciphering what they want (long years of experience) so I occasionally sent her off on some errand. In between assembling the desk part of the desk, ran up and down to make dinner. Back pinged again. When the structure of the desk was done, I moved it into its position between two book cases. This was a stupid thing to do, as I did it all myself, and even without the various drawers and door it was heavy. Back sent me a certified letter notifying me of distress.
We had dinner. I did most of the dishes; SG was smitten by stomach unrest and spent her time in the bathroom for a while. YG went to bed. I had a bath, a belt of single malt, and built the drawers.
Today I can just about walk. I'm sitting at Starbucks with a pillow for my lumbar region, having swallowed a bunch of ibuprofen and rubbed an inch of arnica ointment into my middle back. And SG has a desk. Yay.
Yesterday I was very busy. Left the house at 9:30, got to IKEA, and bought some small stuff for the Younger Girl's room (a new wastebasket, hamper, and reading lamp) and a big new desk for Sarcasm Girl. Then went to Costco and laid in various supplies (nothing says happiness like 3 months worth of toilet paper) and came home to make lunch for all. Then the furniture moving started.
It is impossible to move YG's bed away from the window--and frankly, her room is so small that even if we did get her bed somewhere away from the window, it won't be far enough away if an earthquake happens. We must simply cross our fingers and hope. So we moved all the other furtiture around into a more pleasing conformation, and found the right place to hang her new electric guitar (my nine-year-old wants to be Patti Smith, or maybe J.Lo, when she grows up). Then Spouse and I moved her desk downstairs to the basement. This was a complex manoeuver that required use of the little red wagon--the desk is part of a bunk bed set, sturdy as hell and hugely heavy. So we managed to get it out the room, onto the wagon, took the wagon out the back door into the patio, then around the side path and thence into the basement/garage. Only felt my back ping once. We rebuilt the whole bunk bed in the basement, now that all the component parts had been liberated, preperatory to having a garage sale in a couple of weeks.
Next: getting Sarcasm Girl to finish emptying her desk. When that was done (it took several hours and much pleading) we carried her desk downstairs to YG's room and installed it there. Put the ancient iMac on the desk, plugged it in, it still works. Life is good. Back pinged again.
Then SG and I went down to the basement and brought up the two boxes that contained all the bits and pieces of SG's new desk. It's got four drawers, a hinged door, and a hinged keyboard drawer. SG began to get frustrated at not perfectly understanding the language-free directions from the get-go. I'm pretty good at deciphering what they want (long years of experience) so I occasionally sent her off on some errand. In between assembling the desk part of the desk, ran up and down to make dinner. Back pinged again. When the structure of the desk was done, I moved it into its position between two book cases. This was a stupid thing to do, as I did it all myself, and even without the various drawers and door it was heavy. Back sent me a certified letter notifying me of distress.
We had dinner. I did most of the dishes; SG was smitten by stomach unrest and spent her time in the bathroom for a while. YG went to bed. I had a bath, a belt of single malt, and built the drawers.
Today I can just about walk. I'm sitting at Starbucks with a pillow for my lumbar region, having swallowed a bunch of ibuprofen and rubbed an inch of arnica ointment into my middle back. And SG has a desk. Yay.
