A wee pothole

The inevitable ferrying of things has begun.  Today I delivered two carloads.  The first was more satisfying than the second as the car was filled to the brim, the sun was shining, "Stoneage Romeos" was perfect on the CD player and Milo was off having a play-date with Jane and Gene, so I was free, Free, FREE!


The second trip was after Milo had gone to bed and the sun was going down.  A precious picture got broken in transit and the rollercoaster hills on the way there and back were a little scary in the half light.  Although I was unencumbered by small child the distance, darkness and the forthcoming interaction with the painter boss on Monday weighs a little heavily.


We're not happy with the job.  We're not happy with the finish.  And we're not happy that they haven't fulfilled the brief, and when it was brought to their attention, we were dismissed like we didn't know what we were asking for.  Not good.


Gene and I went through the house today and made a list of the problems. I think it ran to five pages.  Admittedly I left a line between dot points, but still, you get the idea.

• There's paint spatter all over the place on floors, skirts, beams.
• Many bits have been forgotten.  I think only two or three rooms are finished.
• The feature doors are streaky and appalling - hence no photos - although I will take some snaps tomorrow to show you just how bad the bad is.
• All the timber is supposed to be in Aquanamel Gloss.  Instead its been done in low sheen and looks chalky and white washed, rather than shiny and lush.
• Two of the three "completed" white brick walls have really poor coverage and need a really good going over with a small brush to get into the holes they didn't fill before they started. 
• Up until three minutes ago was sure they should've been finished in gloss, but after reading about various painted brick finishes, I'm not so sure.  Apparently brick with a gloss finish looks like plastic, and that's definitely not a look I'm after.  So painters get one point.

On Friday the painters left with the belief that the job was finished, except for the brick in Dad's study.  


We will see about that on Monday when boss comes to drop off his son to finish the wall.  We plan to ambush him with our scary list and hope he agrees that rushing off to the next job just isn't the right path to take.


My faith in human nature (in this regard) hangs by a thread...