Moving Day

Well, this is my first personal post in a while, what with the hype of my latest book about to be released, the Follow Friday venture and all the reviews I've been doing lately. Alas, I thought I'd have a lot more to report but I really don't, what a boring life I must lead ...
Anyway, it's moving week at my house. I have just seven days to pack up all of my crap in a few cardboard boxes and shove it into a shipping container due to be delivered early next week. Now I wish I could say that it was because I was moving somewhere exotic, but in reality, I'm moving to a cheap-ass hotel down the street.
Why?
The insurance company finally paid up!
Do you remember about a year ago, after cyclone Yasi when I was complaining about a leaking roof, moaning incessantly about the tarpaulins covering my house like a giant tent in the middle of suburbia? Well, hard fought and won success is in my hands (thanks to hubby) and we are getting a new roof and the entire interior repainted!
I know, I'm still jumping up and down excitedly. I've been glancing ominously at the ceiling for well over a year, expecting each torrential downpour to join us in the living room. I have questioned imminent electrocution every time water dribbled from the bathroom light fixtures and reached for a gazillion Chinese containers to catch the freak rainstorm in the kitchen. Needless to say that relief is only one word that comes frequently to mind.
So now hubby and I have to move out while the house gets a well deserved makeover. The boxes and cello-tape are crowding my living room and yet I don't have the foggiest idea where to begin. I've been wandering around like an aimless idiot, lovingly stroking the spines of my books and other treasured possessions, simply incapable of shoving them into a box and out of sight.
Plus there is the whole fear of having to unpack everything. I'm not talking about re-organisation, I'm too OCD not to enjoy that part, I'm referring to the disgusting, crawling, creepy little bastards that somehow snake their way into your belongings and jump out and surprise you whilst unpacking.
I'm talking about cockroaches!
Anyway, I have to run, the mere thought of their little feelers and and crunchy shells and quick moving legs make me want to barf. I hate the little f@#%kers. So wish me luck, I'll let you know how it goes.

Have a good one,

Kristy :)

The Shed That I Built ...

Let me start this post by saying that I consider myself quite the handyman. Sorry, handy 'woman'. I have a healthy respect for power tools and I know how to use them. When I whip out a measuring tape, it's almost certain that the dimensions of my next project will be right on the money. The only problem is ... I can't work with angles.
Should I start at the beginning?
Okay, so about a year ago, cyclone Yasi blew through Cairns. I was hunkered down on that dark and seriously windy night, certain that the roof of my house was going to blow away. At two in the morning I heard a crash. I frantically ran through the entire house expecting to see my treadmill tossed into the drive way, the car in my living room, or whatever other crazy thoughts run through your head when cyclonic winds are tearing up your region. Alas, I couldn't find anything (bar the leaks that had sprung and the puddles of water throughout).
The next day, I wake up bleary eyed, passed out on the floor from sheer exhaustion. My hubby and I check the house all over, wondering what had caused the crash. We looked out the window, and what did we see?
My tin shed, blown to pieces and spread across the backyard like icing on a cake ... and so were my beloved tools!
So hence we started to re-build the shed. This time we went with timber construction, good sturdy cross bracing, and an iron roof fastened with 3 inch batten screws. The sucker is not going anywhere next time.
So where does my grief of angles come into it?
We decided to finally finish cladding the outside, row upon row of nice, easy straight cuts. A little measuring here and there, and then fastening with ease. Cue the 'Jaws' music, and I look up. Naturally the roof has to slope to allow water run off, but how the hell do I cut around every single one of the bloody bearers when the roof is already on an angle?
This is when I chuck a 'tanty' and give up. I measure one board, I cut it wrong. Job remains unfinished.
It simply boggles my mind that I can use a drop saw with my eyes closed, wield a jigsaw like I'm carving a christmas turkey, and holster a nail gun like it's the Wild Wild West. All this and I cannot work out how to measure and cut with multiple angles. This fully explains my distaste for all mathematics based subjects.
But like with all of our do-it-yourself household projects, we finally figure it out. I'm just not going to show you a picture of the scrap pile of wasted debris. I already feel like a tool (pun intended).
Happy home renovating everyone!

Kristy :)

PS - Since I wrote this post about a month ago, the shed has been finished and the angles cut (with dad's help) and is looking sublime. As luck would have it, my lawn mower man decided to do wheelies in my backyard and accidentally plowed into the corner of my newly crafted masterpiece. Besides swearing like a trooper, he vowed to have this fixed, and he made good on his promise. This is my baby now!
I have to do a final coat, but, it's looking pretty spunky for a tool shed.