I slipped away to avoid trouble ... we're painting the bedrooms and my amusing backchat isn't finding an appreciative audience. In the interests of not upsetting the paint maestro, who admittedly is trying to paint that fine line between the ceiling and top of the wall, I have come to the computer with my little paint-covered fingers, to give him a break from me.
We have so much to do before the next wave of Kiwis arrive ... and it has to be done before there is a 2 year old here helping us. I do believe her and I would be sent on imaginary errands, just to get us out of the house.
Backchat, while oftentimes clever and amusing, is rarely appreciated by the person experiencing it ... such much talent, so little in the way of appreciative audience.
Spring has sprung ... again. It's rather superb here today and I have 4 loads of washing destined for my little balcony clothesline. I'm not sure if the neighbours mind but few can see it and I grew up with washing fresh and soft from an outdoor washing line.
Today is about the apartment I guess. Gert has plans for a desk for his kids, bookshelves too. I have to springclean and paint the big wall ... confessing that this is my first time loose with a paint roller. Dad was a painter/plasterer/paper hanger by trade and although he spent many years working for Air New Zealand, he was a perfectionist and there was never going to be any chance of me learning his trade. He wasn't famous for his patience with idiocy and I mess around with idiocy on a regular basis ...
I'm not sure that being conscious makes this knowledge of self any easier to live with actually. There's only the retrospective entertainment value and a constant supply of party-type stories.
We have this massive list of things to-do, on top of our own work lists. Thank goodness it's Spring ... the sunshine has injected us with a newfound energy and allows some of us to find humour in everything (although others are cursed with living with the humour-finding one. Gert would probably appreciate all sympathetic thoughts sent his way.)
I should go back and see if the man on the ladder requires anything this trusty sidekick can fetch for him ...
Tot straks.
4 comments:
Yes painting is fun -never done it, well no that's a lie, I tried it once when I was 2 or something. Backtalk, I rule at that.
Painting or wallpapering (probably the latter is a little worse) is sure to test dynamics between two people who love each other very much - but please, give me elbow room to work. ;)
Hey Manic ... looking at my handiwork with the roller, I felt like a 2 year old painter. Let's see how it is when it dries, and after the second coat.
Oh chiefbiscuit, I didn't realise. I thought my dad was just a grouchy old thing but no, the characteristics had leapt countries and into my man. So I'll paint the rest alone over the next couple of days ...
I developed this theory today actually ... it occured to me that if men gave birth and perhaps looked after small children till school age, I believe they might find home decorating and do-it-yourself far simpler ... less mood-altering even ;)
Hmmm, I may have messed that up ... I have to paint the bedroom wall while he works dammit. Poor planning on my part, as Im not the best painter.
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