no place of rest

Although I was too busy yesterday to catch much of the constant babble of punditry following the election I had enough time this morning to read most of a newspaper condensing it. As nothing had really happened it was as well to read everything in one go rather than absorb it all across several repetitions throughout the course of the entire day. When it was definitely at least a clear twenty-four hours since the last drops of antifungal substances were squirted into the loft-beams the previous morning I had to start spoiling the pleasant spaciness of the near-empty loft-space by moving stuff up into it box by box and finding places both safe and relatively accessible should the unlikelihood occur of one of them containing something we actually need at some point.

If something like this chair had been ours we'd either have thrown it out or found a dark corner of one of our parents' lofts to keep it in so that anything living in the cushion ceased to be our problem. Apart from the cushion this one seems to be reasonably sound and might one day see some active use, though until then it'll do quite nicely up here.