I have just dragged a huge contractor-type garbage bag full of cracked, broken, rusty and otherwise non-serviceable clag -- about one third dead cookware and the rest office stuff -- out to the curb, thus freeing up substantial space in the Glory Hole.

I also extracted some pictures from the Grand Art Stash to go in the library and my bedroom. Thanks to my talented ancestors, Edmund's painter sister, and my father the art collector, I have literally dozens of works packed away in the basement. The library is a huge room, so it needs at least one really large picture; unfortunately, the one that should be there -- an enormous Canadian high-realist watercolour -- is currently over the fireplace, covering a large, ugly panel of satellite television connectors. Before I turn 70, I would like to see that gone, a proper mantelpiece installed, and a less-domineering painting on the chimney breast. An oil, so there's no need for protective glass that the electric light bounces off so you can't see the picture.

I'm out of eggs, milk, green veg, fresh fruit and all-purpose flour, so it's time for grocery shopping, which used to be kinda fun. Not now ...