Thanks for your comments on my recent lack of communication. I am all moved in to my new office now, a lovely freshly-painted bright space in a rabbit's warren of a building which was built in 1842, if the plaque on the place is to be believed. Offices and hallways and staircases - at least two sets of them - are everywhere. Most of the neighbours are architects or small engineering firms or other NGOs.
There is a branch of a local digital arts school here, including a digital animation studio, which makes for a lot of eccentrically-dressed kids, most of the skateboard or goth persuasion, wandering around. All in all it is not a bad vibe but a far cry from the old digs which were crammed to the walls with people from every corner of the globe in every type of traditional dress speaking a Babel's Tower of languages every breaktime.
I'll miss them, but the screaming children who were also a fixture there I will manage to survive without.
My third-story office overlooks a busy and bustling tree-lined street in the downtown retail district, which is useful for people-watching, which in turn is most conducive to mental stimulation; which is nice when much of your work consists of writing.
Speaking of trees it was a dramatic week at Casa Ronniecat when the eight big trees which lined our side of the street had to be cut down. The city - which, whatever else they manage to screw up, knows how to handle trees and the people who care about them - had phoned us earlier in the summer to inform us that, after years of trimming them around the power lines that run through the neighbourhood, they were just too large to trim any longer, and were posing a danger not only to the trimmers, but to pedestrians (a child was killed on PEI recently when he climbed a tree that had become electrified by a power line; wood conducts electricity, all the better when wet) and the battle to keep trees and power lines separated had just finally been lost.
I was heartsick of course, even though they're going to replant new trees; but what is to be done? They phoned us months ago to inform us, then apparently came to the house while we were in Halifax, shortly before the work started, to again prepare us, as well as speaking to me as I left the house the morning of the work. I'm guessing they get a lot of hostility when they cut down trees and they seemed relieved that I wasn't (visibly) upset.
Well, surprisingly the street doesn't look nearly as bad as I'd feared, and the other side still has trees, and they are going to replant, so...
As for the day of the action itself, I was at work; so Mojo, Mr. On-Site, will have to tell you about it from his perspective. It happened that Husband had a bad cold that day so he was home with the cats, which I was happy about since I worried they'd be freaked with the noise and so on; as it turns out, Veronica was fascinated and Mojo was - well, we'll let him tell you that when he's able to.
Both home computers still on the fritz but at least I have access at work and am catching up with friends' blogs. And, as Sherwood hoped, the new office does inspire optimism - a change is, they say, as good as a rest.