Nailed

My dear wife took up the challenge of my May 25th post here. Since then, four bags of books have found their way to the Strand, another box has taken up residence behind the loveseat, the blockade in the bedroom has been dispersed, and a hundred and fifty CDs have found a more space-efficient home in binders. These cheering signs of progress, alas, have not quite dispersed the wifely thunderclouds: the two bedroom bookcases that are particularly neuralgic are still there, though somewhat less laden, and the other thousand or so CDs still await jewel case–free homes. (It's amazing how much those suckers weigh, even with the CDs and booklets removed).

Still, progress is progress, and given the emotional cost to yours truly, might perhaps be greeted with more enthusiasm.