Saturday, 23 July 2016

Rip it up...


My best friend, Mrs S, is moving into her cottage in a few weeks, and has spent the last few days turning what was an interesting colour scheme (think Joseph and that coat of his) into a very cool, classy pad.  Of course, not all roads to beauty are easy (those of you who wax will know this) and this week has been spent ridding the house of a rather peculiar smell (marigolds would be a polite way of describing it) and replacing that with the clean smell of emulsion. 

As each room has been stripped of its gaudy coat, she has been able to see what it will become.  I said to her that now the bright colours had gone, so had the house's personality.  It was now time to create a new one - possibly one which doesn't give you a migraine as you walk from room to room.

The husband, ever helpful, has been there all day with power tools.  He has been very effective, and I am secretly relieved that the house is still standing.  I know what he's like when he's got one of those power tools in his hands - it's sometimes hard to make him put it down. 

Mrs S and I were happily wielding our paintbrushes and talking nonsense as usual.  Mrs S was doing the doors in a very methodical way, neatly and professionally.  I, on the other hand, was going at it like a Duracell bunny, managing to paint my arm, the bottom of my shoe, a cheek and my trousers.  My vision was also slightly impaired as there was quite a lot of paint on my glasses.  This might also explain why my standard of painting deteriorated as the afternoon wore on. 

I had told Mrs S that I was good at 'cutting in' (I can talk the talk) which is why she allocated skirting boards to me.  Within half an hour of arriving, she was questioning that decision, but assured me that she could touch up the bits I'd missed.  I have a horrible feeling that this will take longer than anything I have helped with today.  They call it a 'holiday' when you miss a bit don't they?  Mine is more of an 'emigration'...

So returning home, looking like I'd had a fight with the Dulux dog (and lost) it was time to get ready for a very special night out.  Son number two's BFF was celebrating officially becoming an adult.  The party had been kept secret, and I was most impressed that son number two had managed to keep his mouth shut for so long.  The party was fantastic, and the husband and I felt very honoured to be part of it.  The BFF's parents had never met us before, and after last night, will probably never see us again.  There was music, and the husband was drinking... Need I say more?

Later in the evening, the BFF's cousin, Dr D, proved how trawling the internet for hours at a time can be a positive thing.  Having gone looking for newspaper and failed, eventually returning with a piece of 18th birthday wrapping paper (I had visions of him feverishly unwrapping the BFF's presents to achieve this) he performed a 'magic' trick, ripping the paper up, then miraculously making it reappear intact.  Apparently, you can look these things up on Google, which is good to know, as I thought it was only naked ladies that boys his age were interested in looking at.

But what was most impressive about this trick, was that it was successfully executed after many, many beers.  The husband, who wasn't far behind Dr D with the empty bottles, was by this time almost incapable of carrying a bowl of crisps to the table.

I told you we wouldn't be invited back...
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