The carpenter started work in our kitchen today, and immediately found an unanticipated problem: something in the bulkhead over the fridge (and under the second-best bathroom) is leaking now, and -- judging from the damage to the plasterboard and the newly exposed pipes -- has been leaking for a long, long time. Cue the plumber, who will visit us tomorrow morning bright and early.

Kitchen, dining room and sitting room operations have been transferred to the basement TV room, where the toaster oven, microwave and "kitchen dishes" are jammed in among the books and storage shelving, and the entire contents of the pantry is stashed under a six-foot folding table in wine boxes and plastic milk crates. The refrigerator is now in the garage, and the sitting room is a jumble of furniture shoved out of the dining room. For the next three weeks, we will be eating off our knees in front of the TV and washing dishes in the laundry room.

Menus will tend toward cereal, sandwiches, and anything nukable that looks half-way nourishing. We bought an electric kettle at Canadian Tire to ensure a steady supply of tea, and the espresso machine now sits on top of a low bookcase.

The cats are not happy. Come to think of it, neither am I, but I have high hopes for neatness and efficiency in December.