The cold light of day arrived yesterday and with it, sharp light penetrating dark corners.

Our dark corners were an artificial construct. Late November and December were busy months. We had a bedroom and a three storey hallway decorated. ‘Stuff’ was moved out of the way. We went on holiday, had an unexpected pet death and Christmas was upon us. The newly decorated bedroom became a dumping ground for all the ‘Stuff’ that was homeless, moved into the bedroom and the door was closed. Then the rain came and many days of dullness allowed the door to stay closed. Until yesterday when daylight flooded in. Something had to be done. As is always the case the whole process created more mess before two tidy rooms appeared. Things went into the roof. Including a portrait of me aged 40. The one of me at 45 is easier to live with.

I had a bookish moment as I rested the painting against a roof truss.

My day of house chores involved no selling of my soul, no moral corruption and my debauchery was limited to a restorative cup of tea. No sudden or unexpected youthfulness in this house.