It's been bloody years since I spoke to so many people in a day,
and had to absorb so much information,
and pay so much attention,
and make so many choices.
I'm sure I've staved off Alzheimer's for at least a few months with all the new neural pathways that've been forged through the endeavour.
So one week on we're probably still about three days from completing the painting, but our mark is being made. Previously sad and beige, the House at Porter Street is evolving into a happy house of whiteness and brightness.
|Family room: during|
Today the vertical blinds were finally removed.
Oh happy day.
|The thirstiest pine the painters have ever encountered in Mum's pine box.|
|This is how scary the brick wall looks when its only had one coat of paint rolled on.|
- a flouro strip for the kitchen,
- an oyster for Dad's study (to replace the droopy frosted glass tulips he was at danger of bumping his head on),
- a ball for the downstairs WC and
- a standard lamp and a 43cm white orb pendant for my bedroom.
|A white one of these, but with a tighter weave.|