What's in the loft?

Thankfully NOT Mrs Rochester or Mrs Poole.

This is my loft. None of the stuff here (except the water tank) belongs to me but it will all have to be shifted before the new insulation goes down at the end of November. 'Stuff' includes a deep fat fryer, various bits of obsolete technology and some bedding and what looks like a sofa or part of a suite. How did they get it up there, up a very dodgy single ladder and then through a small door?

Today I was only up there with Z to get some boxes down which I'll need when it comes to moving MY stuff around. #2 son came to hold the ladder and childmind little Z in her buggy. Meanwhile, at the sound of his voice Molly hid in the futon, clearly still traumatised from the cat carrier episode last week. The loft is a bit muckier than when I was first up a month ago. Now the 'stuff' at the south side of the loft (including 3 duvets) is covered with dark grey dust from the builders knocking off the slates on the roof. All go here.

Except NOT all go with what I'm supposed to be doing and I now have a deadline, early next week. 1500 - 2000 words he said, 3 - 4 pages. Aaah! Amazing how important it suddenly becomes to go up another ladder and dust the top of the picture rail when faced with getting down to real work? I even did the ironing!! I thought the CDs Allan sent me of 'Sixteen' would help, spur me on, give me the right brainwaves. Beautiful music, especially one of my favourites, 'Ave Verum Corpus' but nary a word has been written. I used to be able to do this at the drop of a hat, now it's writer's block.

And no excuse as it is a real dreich day. I did venture out for a swim and then later to take in the brown bins, almost the highlight of my day. Who'd have thought I'd come to this? Not much prospect of gardening either. The back green is now a squelchy mess.

No writing to-night, off to sing - is that chicken soup for the soul?