14 February, 2011

So we hijacked the painter this morning.  He arrived a little late and the tension was palpable.

With Dad for moral support, I showed the painter around the scene, pointing high and low every couple of steps.  There were audible gasps (not from us).  And when the end of the tour finally came, we were met with silence and after a moment, an enormous sigh.  

And then a promise it would all be fixed.

And by 6pm, as the father and son rinsed off their brushes, it was, in the main, all fixed.  And best of all the vibe of optimism in the house was restored.

The paint job now is by no means perfect, but it's certainly one hundred times better than what we were left with at end of day of Friday.  My feature doors are vastly improved but remain with hints of streak and drip, despite being sanded and then rolled.  Go figure.

Anyway, it's just nine days until the big move.  We kept ourselves busy by having Cozy Kitchens come to quote and getting all excited by the idea by fusion: 
glass spashbacks + tiles = glass tiles.  Sparkly, twinkly beautiful.

We also went to Ikea to look at their kitchens and bought more flatpack:  a four by four Expedit for the family room:
I'm undertaking a minor Ikea hack, too, by putting the unit on casters, even though the instructions explicitly state it's not a good idea.  I figure I can get away with it since I'm not going to be rolling the thing around, I just want the bottom shelf off the floor so it doesn't get as dusty and I can clean underneath.

We also went to Dulux and bought more gloss paint for the timber trims, 

We had the very lovely Danny from Melbourne Pet Doors come and perform a double cat-flap installation.  It's logistically difficult to have a functioning pet door in a security door and an adjacent timber door, don't you know.  But he did it like a genius.  And now a small great dane could make its way in and out of the house without any humans having to rouse themselves to help.

I am also incredibly proud to say that I erected the Expedit without even a hint of Ikea rage.  A first.  Not even when the stupid last screw just wouldn't go in did I lose my nut.  Extraordinary.

I think it helped that Dad had Milo at Riverside, so I was labouring without the accompaniment of incessant chatter.  Now however, as I sit in my room, I am overcome by the overpowering fumes of deodorant.  This has all the hallmarks of Milo tampering with Mummy's stuff.  And this is price I pay for a few hours of separation.

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