I moved some furniture around yesterday without hurting myself. Hurrah for me!

Tosh the carpenter promised to come on Saturday, but I saw neither hide nor hair of him all weekend. He does lively work, but I would not describe him as reliable. Marc Durocher (the other carpenter) called him “a bit strange”, and now I know what that means.

New appliances are always a bit of a crapshoot. On the one hand, they actually work, as in perform their intended function, but, on the other hand, everything around them must be adjusted in a dozen small ways. My dishwasher was never properly anchored in its space, so it rocks forward alarmingly when I pull out the racks. The refrigerator is much too big, occupying what feels like half the kitchen. The range hood is a disaster waiting to happen. But somehow I’m getting used to all this dysfunction, much as I hate it, because I dread the renewed upheaval that would come with the renovation that kitchen desperately needs.

When something — probably the dishwasher — breaks, my hand will be forced. But I’d like to get the books unpacked and solve the garage problem first!