Yet another snowday, perhaps the last one of the season since the sun is supposed to shine all weekend. I awoke feeling only a few twinges from yesterdays bout of sinusitis, and set about clear up a few things. My bedroom went well and quickly. Since I don’t share it, not even with my furry darlings, there is no one to make messes in it except me. Next, I scooped up the poo from the dogs bathroom area, and promised it a thorough scrub down as soon as water would remain liquid in that space. The dining room wasn’t bad; I swept, and noted some cabinets that needed a wipe down, but I wanted to get in some writing, so I moved on.

Then, I entered the study! Apparently, William had been trying to get Zoombini to play, and Blaze had decided the top shelf was hers for napping. My crate of music books and notebooks lay upside-down on the floor, and so were both sewing baskets. Under them was my laptop bag, a green reusable grocery bag, and assorted cartons, boxes and notebooks that had been carelessly put “to one side”. Good thing I was feeling better, I certainly had my work cut out for me.
 

What? You think I made that mess?

I had some lunch, wrote an article for Triond, and contemplated my best angle of attack on the mess. As I munched on Champagne toasted wheat crackers and humus, it became clear to me that my first job was going to be finding the floor. I wouldn’t be able to return anything to the shelves till that happened. My next task would be putting up the new window curtains, followed by a long-planned project: creating some way to make things stay on the top shelf.

Up is definitely better than down. New curtains installed, and two baskets hung on the ceiling.

First step was to put a stop to falling baskets. They had been hanging on nails on the front of the shelf across the top of the window. I rummaged through the junk drawer, and came up with two ceiling hooks. I normally leave my ceiling alone, because it has asbestos ceiling tiles. Today, however, the limit had been reached. Fine particles of potential illness not withstanding, I was tired of my sewing gear landing up-side-down on the floor. Armed with a n eight-penny nail, a hammer and a long screwdriver I was ready to embark upon my project. First I tapped across the ceiling, listening for the probable location of a floor joist. When I heard the sharp rapping sound that indicated that something solid was behind the tile, I checked the location by driving the spike up into the ceiling.

Pay dirt first time! I congratulated myself on having a good ear, and prayed that the seasoned wood in my old house would not be too hard to work the sharp screw end of the hook into it. It went up a little faster than would be consistent with wood, but seemed solid. I used a long screwdriver as a lever to turn the hook the last few inches into the ceiling. I then used the same method to install a second hook for the basket that usually held amusements for the grandchildren.

My one and only darlin’ daughter.

I was just cleaning up the sawdust, when my daughter called, needing help with her economics. So much for projects for today…but it’s all right. Stuff will still be falling off those shelves another day. A daughter happens only once in a lifetime, even if you are lucky enough to have more than one.