It is fairly loathsome painting onto new plaster, the first coat, a 50/50 mix of paint and water is drunk thirstily by the surface and in my opinion newly plastered walls can happily drink coats two and three too. Maybe that's where the phrase plastered comes from. You can save money by buying the cheaper industrial sized pots of paint, far preferable to the Dulux Once brand, as the price and not the fumes, makes me light headed. I haven't even ventured to enquire as to the price of the Farrow and Ball-and-chain paint, believing the old adage of 'If you've got to ask the price etc.......'Mind you, though the monumental pot of cheaper paint is a third of the price, one still needs to apply 4 hefty coats to get the desired finish. Bor-ring!
We have completed the decor of the new family
Patiently watching the renovation, the 9yo has been making noises off and thanks to our constant excursions to DIY stores, (poor kids,) two match pots of gaudy paint: one purple and one rusty red along with a purple lamp have been procured. It appears it is her room next.
Thanks to the delightful weather, with monsoon wet stuff and temperatures above 10°, the fields have grown ridiculously, we have borrowed a
Yesterday, when a brief lull appeared in the storms, I got out on the mower and drove down Home Field, making a little track to the allotment for my wheelbarrow. [It will make it easier to transport the rotten strawberries to the house..... sarcasm: lowest form and all that malarkey...] Then I continued on and mowed around the cookout zone, affectionately known as Stonehenge, should be Woodhenge really... or Waterworld. Peering into the dug out fire pit I couldn't even see the fire baskets at the bottom of the hole, thanks to the rain water.
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| 2011 |
Two days ago I sent Hubby off to work with his sandwiches and a boxed racing pigeon. He said it was an interesting journey; the pigeon was very grumpy and spent the hour doing Darth Vader impressions. He'd been blown off course and had taken refuge in the stables where we'd managed to read his leg bands. Going online we'd alerted his owner and 'ta-daaa' off he went home.
'You'd think he'd be less grumpy,' I remarked to a neighbour, 'I fed him corn and gave him a lovely soft bed.'
'Probably didn't want to go back to the owner, maybe he liked living in the stables.'
I felt guilty then but I really don't want any more waifs or strays... no. more. Queenie the lamb is positively the last this year and I'm fairly sure I'm cured of cade lambs now; with 4 hourly feeds I couldn't even take the sproglets on good outings this half term. They loved the lambs but were unamused by the lack of entertainment.
We did manage one trip out, we visited Hereford's Hampton Court. We've been before but it's still a treat and the 9yo and the 7yo are such cheap dates and can be bought for the price of an ice cream!
Roll on the real summer......
