Usually I greet inclement weather warmly. However now we're here, in the House at Porter Street, with the damp smell made worse with the pitter-patter of rain-drips, I can't help but grimace a little, and remind myself, yet again, about the essential oils we need for the burner to help combat the pong in Papou's bedroom.
Things have moved along here today, after a hiatus brought about by some sad happenings in the world. Peter Builder returned and dragged the Everest of garbage (including Laura Palmer) from between the bank of conifers in the front garden and the giant cumquat, to the skip that arrived yesterday.
That pile has been in situ, and growing, since the first week we moved in. So the day it was gone was always going to be a happy happy day: so joyous I even embrace the huge skid mark it left on the lawn.
Peter Builder also finished off the installation of the chunky shelves in my bedroom. Completion of the project is now in my hands. Woo hoo.
Milo and I have already picked up some putty and a spatula and began the prep of all the shelves in readiness for sanding, priming and painting.
Mum and I ventured out to pick up the kitchen sink today too (which came with three accessories, not the two as I feared) and we also swooped on Bunnings for some essential supplies and advice and have returned ready to take up tools and embark on grunt.
There was some learning in this too. Did you know that when you're using a drill, if you inadvertently have it on reverse when working with wood, the hole will start smoking. And I assume, if you keep going, catch fire. Who knew?
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