Several years ago my father died suddenly of a heart attack. In my dream last night he got to choose the time and manner of his death. It was still uncomfortable being in the same room with him but I did get to say goodbye.
And there was a reminder about editing his writing...

My room's clean!
I don't want to dwell on how many hours it took (6!) and while it isn't pretty you can at least see the floor. The big break through came when I realised I wasn't actually using my desk for anything, ergo there was no need to keep it clear. It's amazing how much stuff can be packed in, on and around a desk. I still need more space and I'd dearly love a house where there's room for bookshelves...
The cubs are playing in my room now - it's the novelty of actually being able to get in there. Enjoy the play while you may, my pretties, we're doing your room next.