A week I'm glad is over

Mr Murphy has a lot to answer for. The man's infamous law has reigned over my life this week, and boy am I glad it's Saturday. It's one of those fabulous days - wet, windy and chilling - and yes that is me describing it as 'fabulous' because this kind of weather simply demands a quiet day indoors. We did venture down to the site this morning to take the menfolk their vittels, but since pm time the small ones have been snuggled up watching Harry Potter which has given me much needed time to catch up with letter writing, paperwork and the offloading of my heart, aka this blog.

So, here beginneth the offloading: It's been a tough week. Four out of 13 window openings incorrectly sized by our contractors. Our brickie made a hash of the front wall - it would be the front, wouldn't it, not an obscure spot round the back - and has been unable to finish the small gable end which has further delayed the roofer. The garage door delivery (paid for months ago, might I add) is delayed further. The builder's merchant van broke down en route to us with an urgent delivery, I've waited a week for parts for our MVHR system and been fobbed off daily by the earnest salesman who really needs to learn a lesson in customer service. I've spent HOURS on ebay buying bathroom components; finding bits that I can both afford and fit into three tiny spaces has been (marginally) harder than finding the will to live lately.

And then this morning I discovered that one of the doors has been made to open the wrong way. Not entirely the end of the world, but after five and a half days variously barking orders, smile-grimacing through clenched jaws in an attempt to keep my true feelings under control, juggling responsibilities and emotions, crisscrossing Milton Keynes and the nation's phone wires, I took the news rather badly: I uttered several choice words and shed more than a few tears of frustration on the way home. But then, something odd happened. My mojo, not known as the most stable influence in my life, upped and left, and my heart just shut down. House? What house? For the rest of today, at least, I couldn't care less about the house. As my mum would say: I've had it in chunks!

But just in case I find my mojo sometime soon, let me say these things: The wonderfully resourceful Dave has managed to solve most of the fenestration problems, the brickie's on site this weekend trying to regain ground (and, presumably, my trust), the weather's been mild enough to allay mortar freeze fears, the doors at least fit. And my new front door is absolutely STUNNING! I had another sneak peek this morning through the dust sheet and my heart sang. Just for a second.

The pics are of the door (sigh) and inside Matthew's bedroom, his ill-fitting window languishing as usefully as a chocolate teapot. Maybe I should stick it on ebay.