Fun things about owning a house and sharing it with someone: sometimes, the original layout isn’t quite what you want and sometimes you need to change it. There may be things I don’t like, and there may be things the TLW doesn’t like, and we decide what we can live with and what we can’t.
SO there are things that have been done in the months since we moved in. I couldn’t live with the bathroom set up the way that it was, so I put in a new shower head. There weren’t enough shelves, so we put shelves in. We don’t like the ivy out the back, so it will be attacked. And the biggest job (thus far) is just beginning: there are built in wardrobes in the master bedroom that just look crap. I’m sure that they did the job for the previous owners, but for us I don’t think so. Poor TLW is particularly non-fannish – her favourite quote is “they offend me. On every level. They have to go.”
And go they shall. The tools necessary to take them apart are pretty much in place, but we needed somewhere to store the clothes in the meantime and to take the place of the thing when all the destruction was done. Last week, these replacement wardrobes arrived, and the bloody delivery drivers wouldn’t bother trying to get them up the stairs. Myself and TLW, faced with the possibility of leaving a pair of wardrobes in the living room for months did what anyone would do: we attacked the problem head on, and took the up the stairs ourselves.
This did not end well, and poor TLW has the strapped finger to prove it.
We then called in the in-laws to help out, and things went better.
For a given value of better, anyway. The wardrobes are upstairs, and clothes have started to be moved. Next thing to be done: the existing wardrobe is to be dismantled. Eight feet high, about fourteen feet long and two feet deep, and it all has to be unscrewed, crowbarred, battered and torn away from the wall. Considering that moving a glorified wooden box resulted in a (suspected) broken finger, what could possible go wrong this time?