Shelf Help

 

This time of year always has a way of dragging me down a little. The darker evenings creep in, the moods dip, and I find myself needing a good talking-to just to get moving. This week, I decided to take action — starting with my environment. More specifically, my sitting room.

Somehow, I’d let the clutter build up, and every time I sat down, I felt weighed down by it. I figured what I really needed was something simple to make life a little better: a bookshelf. Off I went into town on the hunt.

The first few I saw were giant oak ones that would have turned my little sitting room into something resembling a library annex. Eventually, I found the perfect one in Woodies — slim, neat, and just what I needed. Of course, there was a catch: self-assembly.

Now, I’m an independent woman — not so much by choice as by necessity — but I wasn’t about to let a flat-pack defeat me. After all, I’m “a carpenter’s daughter.” Dad didn’t exactly pass down his woodworking skills, but he did leave behind an array of tools. Not intentionally, mind you — they were just left in my house after he helped build it, one of the last jobs he did before he got sick.

I’ll never forget when we were organising Dad’s funeral and trying to choose symbols of his life to bring up. Someone asked if we had anything from his work. Without hesitation, I offered up his hammer. It’s been in my house ever since and, I’m glad to say, it’s hammered in more than a few nails since then.

So today, armed with Dad’s tools and a good dose of determination, I set about building my new bookshelf. And — hey presto! — I did it. Sitting back in my now uncluttered living room, books neatly stacked and order restored, I felt my mood lift instantly.

Sometimes it’s the little victories, isn’t it?

Sometimes it’s the little victories, isn’t it?