Storm over. Residents catatonic.

We survived the carpet cleaning by sweltering heat. 'Nuff said. Especially as not much else got done. There was simply no time (and room and energy) for that.

Now the flat is like a glass house, smelling of wet dog (well, wet carpet drying, actually), and I'm fairly dead. At least I've brought up the energy to put everything back into the book-cases (5 huge shopping bags full of books and DVDs), so the worst is behind me.