Cabin Fever
The effect of continuous rain
I have a list of things I want to write about and am struggling to choose. My inner landscape at the moment includes:
Wanting to defend the use of adverbs.
How people who do terrible things should be punished, but, hey, let’s not crow.
(Maurice: Oh, do let’s.)
Why there was a large broken clock left on a picnic bench along the Nantes-Brest canal.
Is the farmer across the fields trying to kill me with the chemicals I’m sure he’s spraying?
I think what is dominating my life at the moment is the nightmare that is the project I have committed to. To which I have committed. The Book Nook. It was given to me about 2 years ago after I hinted that I’d like one. I love the idea, a tiny little diorama you tuck into your bookshelf, and it actually lights up! It reminds me of the dolls house I always dreamt of as a little girl.
Maurice: Your actual doll’s house was a bit shit and you never played with it anyway, so don’t come over all Brambly Hedge, love.
Anyway, this thing. The guff online claims:
Enchanting Keepsake: Elevate your bookshelf with a beautifully detailed, eye-catching scene.
(Maurice: Oh-oh. Beautifully detailed.)
LED Ambiance: Enjoy a soft, warm glow that highlights intricate, mesmerising details.
(Maurice: There. Again. Intricate. Red flag right there.)
Simple Assembly: Effortlessly slot precisely printed pieces together with clear visual guides.
(Maurice: Visual guides that make the blueprint for the Hadron Collider look like the assembly instructions for an Ikea bread board.)
Stress Relieving: Immerse yourself in rewarding crafting that relaxes mind and soul.
(Maurice: It really says that. No word of a lie.)
Family Bonding: Share laughter and connection crafting unique memories with loved ones.
(Maurice: Ask G, that’s all I’m saying. Not much laughter or connection going on there when you’re at it.)
I started well, feeling positive. I put all the printed sheets in order on the table, looked at the instructions, gave myself a talking to. How hard can this be? Just do a little bit every day. You’ll have a lovely little eye-catching scene before you know it.
Day 1: I made the four windows by pressing out the correct pieces and glueing them.
Maurice: You opened the glue wrong and the nozzle split.
I also made a strange little sign and got the bits the right way out. I quit while I was ahead.
Day 2: I made the air-conditioning unit, at least, I think that’s what it is.
Maurice: You broke off one of the feet, and it’s all a bit wonky.
I had a bit of difficulty with the branch of cherry blossom, trying to get the sections of blossom at the correct angle and the right way round.
Maurice: You’ve done it wrong. I told you.
I’m sure it’ll look fine in the end.
You can see my handiwork so far in the photograph. The bits in the tray are what I’ve completed, representing about an hour’s work. I’ve got to page 4 of a 33 page instruction book. I’m trying very hard to prove to myself that someone with ADHD traits
Maurice: Oh, please. Spare me the Instagram label. You’re just a daffy old bat.
traits can complete something that requires patience.
Maurice: Bit like that jumper that’s been sitting unfinished in the bag by the window? Where the Fair Isle pattern looks like Space Invaders?
Anyway, I’ve been a bit busy the past couple of days, so I haven’t exactly kept to my plan. But I’m definitely going to crack on tomorrow.