Being house-bound with no car meant that Fliss and I could focus all our attention on decorating the lounge this weekend.
I have to admit that she’s put in a bit more work than me, but I did put some time in both on Saturday and today, applying the second coat of our chosen shade of yellow paint on top of the groundwork she’d done last weekend. It’s hard going, painting – I cant say I’ve done a lot of it in my time, but the whole reach and kneel thing you have to do while you roll the paint up and down the wall from ceiling to floor really does take it out on the arms and legs. Fortunately we’re almost finished, although I reckon we’ll have to get a little more of the paint to finish it off, which will drag it out until next weekend.
From the “perfect fucking timing” department, we got a letter from the estate agency just after we’d got stuck into the work on Saturday. Turns out they want to come and do a mid-term inspection on the place. Since we have no car at the moment for me to get back during the day time I’ll have to stall them until next week, which should also give us time to get the painting finished. I’m thinking that if we make a good job of it and the smell of paint is gone then they wont even remember the previous hue of lilac with blue-tac polkadots.
It’s not like they can open a big can of whoop-ass on us just for brightening the place up a bit, is it?
We’ve endured a year and a half of tempermental central heating, plus the leaking roof, so if they do have a problem with the new look lounge then I’ll be opening up my own can of whoop-ass!
