Drifting back towards normalcy

Slowly but steadily. The cleaning lady came, and together we made a final push to finish cleaning the balcony. Furniture that belongs there has been moved back, the small book cabinet stuffed again, and Mum decided that the needful thing to do was for her to wash every frigging dish that is usually kept in the cupboard on the balcony. Don't ask me why; we only ever use those dishes once in every six years or so, and then they need to be washed anyway. I've given up to understand Mum's logic when it comes to housework.

But the good news is that our refugee camp has been dissolved... to 80 per cent or so. There are still a few things in the study and the living room, but the bags filled with clothes selected to go to charity or to the rubbish bin have been moved to the balcony, and the door between the study and the living room can actually be used again.

Deciding that what I needed was a bit of creative work, I've started sewing the little oven mitts for Theo. I've done about one quarter of the first pair, but there's no hurry. Working with decades-old terrycloth is tricky and the results aren't quite what I imagined (the dratted fabric extends in all directions while worked on), but as long as the mitts serve their purpose I don't think a six-year-old would mind them being a tad lopsided.

So, that was today; I'm dead on my feet and I think I'll watch a bit of telly before falling into bed.