I am railing, I am railing…

I can’t tell you what an exciting day I have been having.

The new clothes rail has arrived.

This has been absolutely thrilling, so thrilling that I saved it until the very last thing that had to be done, after emptying the dogs and faffing about with the laundry and washing pots and going to a university class.

We had to have a university class to talk about our dissertations, which I decided was pretty much just as good as actually writing one, and that after a couple of hours talking I had done enough academia for the day.

I waited until absolutely everything else was done, and then I belted upstairs to get on with clothes-railing.

This was a faff, I can tell you, because it is upstairs in the attic and there are a very lot of stairs. I have resolved that I will do my ironing up there from this day forward, because it is a perfectly nice place to do it now that it is warm and sunny up there, since all the messing about boarding and insulating it just before Christmas. Also most of the ironed clothes live up there anyway and so I might as well.

Hence I had to take the iron and the ironing board up, along with all of the other gubbins necessary for middle-class clothes storage. There was spray cologne, and mothballs, parcel tape for labelling, scissors in case of emergency, and a screwdriver in case the clothes rail should prove recalcitrant. Then there was the clothes rail itself, which turned out to be reassuringly heavy and explained why the delivery driver had glared at me.

I made the irritating discovery whilst up there that Rosie had eaten the wire for the little lamp, regrettably it hadn’t been plugged in, that would have jolly well shown her, and there were bits of wire all over the floor. I will have to fix it tomorrow.

After that small setback I had the loveliest time. I took the clothes rail carefully out of its box, and because it was such a very important moment, I even read the instructions.

They said: Please to Assemble with the strictest following of the Procedures of the Instruction, so obviously they were important. Unfortunately, after that there was just some pictures of a clothes rail and lots of letters and arrows, none of which was at all comprehensible, so I junked them and did it by myself. I am pleased to be able to announce that this worked out pretty well, although there was an anxious moment at the end when the rail wouldn’t actually go on, but with a bit of bashing and some wagging it about it all worked splendidly.

I had a shiny new clothes rail. How I did admire it, and realised, in that moment, that I have wanted one for years.

After that the happy moments started.

I had previously, in a moment of sensible preparation, ensured that we had plenty of zip-up bags, coat hangers and mothballs, and I went through all of our clothes. I organised them into the right-size bags, small for jackets, a bit longer for my middle-class jackets and Mark’s suits, and very long indeed for my ball gown and other assorted dresses.

I checked for any marks, and gave every one a little squirt of perfume before I chucked some mothballs into the bag and zipped it up, labelling them all so that I could see at an instant glance what they all were. Then I put the longest ones on the old rail, which hangs over the stairs, and the shorter one on the new rail. This has got a shelf at the bottom which I thought would be just a perfect size for a hat box or two.

It was a very fine moment. I thought afterwards that the labels, which are only parcel tape and felt pen, were a bit untidy, and have decided that tomorrow I will write some properly tidy labels, in my best writing in proper ink, and stick those on instead, so that will be something exciting to look forward to when I get up.

After that I wiped out the ancient lump of furniture of the sort that I am always charmed to see described on the mighty Internet as a Chester Drawers. It is enormous, and squats up there in the corner because there is absolutely no room for it anywhere else in the house. I opened it up and lined all the drawers with paper. Then I folded the shorts and T-shirts that are ironed because some days we need to pretend we are middle class people who are just having a casually downmarket day, and wrapped them tidily in clear plastic bags so I can see easily what they are. Then I laid them carefully in the newly washed drawers, on top of the fresh lining paper.

I was very happy indeed.

I have still got some things that really need ironing again, because they were a bit creased even despite my previous best efforts, and so tomorrow I am going to do that. Then I am going to take our best jerseys upstairs as well and put them in the drawers where they can be flat and perfect.

I am feeling very pleased indeed. Not only am I achieving clothes-storage perfection, I have even talked a bit about my dissertation.

It has been a most successful and satisfactory day, and I am very much looking forward to tomorrow.

PS I have just discovered on Amazon some very beautiful sticky labels, adorned with a pretty floral edging, and am wrestling with my conscience, because they are £11.29, which is a very lot to pay for something which can be done perfectly well with parcel tape. I do not yet know if me or my conscience will win.

I will let you know.