The Smell Of The Sawdust

I love the smell of sawdust in the morning!  This, for the uninitiated, is me paraphrasing from 'Apocalypse Now', a movie based loosely on Conrad's 'Heart of Darkness'.  I studied this novel when at university for a while all dem years ago when I was having my mid-twenties crisis.  Liked the story and the themes, but the writing didn't grab me and I suspect it was because English was actually Conrad's third language.  Might try reading it again.  I was the same when attempting to read 'The Three Musketeers' by Dumas, given English was not this author's first language, either.  Something seemed to fall down in the translation. Oh, I thought I'd be carried away on wings of poesy (now I'm borrowing from one of my favourite poets, John Keats) with the romance of swashbuckling adventures, and a corrupt churchman, and a disparate bunch of men comprising a pirate, a churchman, a nobleman, and a Johnny-Come-Lately country boy.  But reading text like: 'D'Artagnan got out his sword and fought the man, killed him, and was on his way' (well, words to that effect), has not grabbed me in the slightest.  It's annoyed me.  It's TOLD me, not SHOWN me the story.  Also, it got me thinking, 'Strewth, this D'Artagnan bloke's dangerous.  He should have some anger management sessions.' 


But back to the sawdust.  My house smells like sawdust and is awash with jumble everywhere, as the flooring man runs his electric sander and polivac over the floorboards of my lounge room and my oldest son's room, those floorboards undergoing a sanding and polishing.  As I type this, I am surrounded by assorted upturned lounge suite pieces, and furniture from my son's room.  I am surrounded by this cluttered barricade, and am tempted to don a bandolier and wave a musket in some half-arsed game of 'Les Miserables'.  The fact that I have a singing voice direct from Satan stops me, as I don't want my flooring man to run off screaming before the job is done.


So will be taking the boys to my mother-in-law's house to get them out of the way, and taking the younger of my two to a birthday party tomorrow.  I also have to make calls to publicise the upcoming launch of 'Silver Studs and Sabre Teeth'.  I've typed this in the 'notes' section of my new iPod, which I am just ADORING.  My youngest got me to download 'Do You Believe In Magic?' by The Lovin' Spoonful the other day.  He has his mother's impeccable taste in music, I do believe.  I will tell him the name of this band if he asks, and I daresay explain the meaning behind that name, if he should also ask that.


I am awaiting some RSVPs on the launch.  I am awaiting lots of RSVPs on the launch, and am as paranoid as a freshly-loaded-up stoner at the Policemen's Ball that nobody will come to the thing.  Hubby assures me they will.  I must be patient, it is after all the Easter long weekend.  Folks are busy, and the RSVP date is still five days away.


But I actually don't like the smell of sawdust in the morning, not really.