Delivery

Thursday last week my father removed the water access in my kitchen. Things became a little complicated. There is water in the bathroom, thankfully. There is only the microwave oven and the fridge left in the kitchen now. The options for dinner are limited, with no stove available. My father has painted the ceiling and laid the new floor. His girlfriend is helping out most days. Yesterday I took leave from work to be at home when the delivery from Ikea came. I had paid for delivery into the apartment and that I was grateful for. There were lots of boxes and my apartment is on the third floor. We started assembling one cabinet but needed to do more plastering of the walls so it got delayed.

Over the past weekend I ran errands and attended to some correspondence. I did actually manage to decide on a wallpaper also.

Monday we got yet another colleague. He will do a project we never have time for. The problem was that I have never worked with this project but I was the only one there to give instructions that day.  I hope I said the correct things.

Last week I attended a lecture at the Archive center. The lecturer was a woman who had written a book about part of her family history. It was a terrible story about a tyrannic grandfather and the consequences of his actions towards his son. The author raised questions you face as a family historian. How much can you tell? To what degree can you expose people even though they are dead? How can you relieve yourself from the guilt you feel for bad things your ancestors have done? How do you distance yourself from the subject you write about? Very important questions. Very interesting lecture. Heartbreaking and shocking, but very interesting.