Holding back the Sahara.

You will be delighted to hear that I resolved my costume dilemma in the time honoured way. I threw money at the problem and rented something. The local costume shop does not really 'do' fictional characters but they specialise in medieval dress. This resulted in me going as Maid Marion complete with long blue silk dress with laced up bodice, sleeves that small families could have camped in and a waist length curly black wig. Oh, and a girdle of course. I have now been told that I must grow my hair long, black and curly, which could prove tricky. Also, that I must instantly throw out my wardrobe and only wear medieval dress. This is either because I looked unutterably ravishing or because it gave everybody such a laugh that they want me to hang about like a court fool to amuse them everyday of the week. I am going with the latter as the most likely option.

Back in the real world, the builders are working so fast that if you blink, you'll miss something. There are skylights going in in the new corridor and doorways being bashed through. Studwalls are flying up and the new chimney breast is built. The electricians are festooning the house with cabling and the icing on today's cake is that the Forestry Commission have turned up and are taking down the trees that border my garden.

These have been slowly and steadily falling down and the next winter storm could have seen them tumbling onto my garden. As they are at least 80ft tall this was a problem which made me glance at them furtively in the lightest of breezes as I wondered whether they were leaning just a little bit more than yesterday. Taking them down is also going to have the added bonus of flooding my garden with evening light. OK. Flooding the garden is an exaggeration, but it will make a big difference. It is all too exciting for words.

The dust, on the other hand, is not exciting. Overwhelming would be a better word. The Loyal Hound is an interesting shade of grey, as am I, and all my worldly goods. Everything is coated in dust. I left footprints on the carpet when I went upstairs earlier. There is so much of it that it seems improbable that I will ever get rid of it. I am determined to not worry about it. I shall cross that dustbath when I need to. Right now it would be like trying to push back the Sahara to try and tackle it.