Wall finished!

[For now, at least; I may try some white spirit/cellulose thinner/WD40/specialist cleaner recommended on the internet - not sure, and I can always come back to it.]

"Before" [notice also "before" for floor!]

I think it looks a whole heap better - still room for improvement, but I'm happy to leave it for now [and go and bathe; yucky-feeling skin]

"After" [or maybe "during", if I use a solvent]

Now all that's left to do is have fun seeing how long David takes to notice.

My best guess is that it will be some time on the 21 or 22 of August - when he's back in the office catching up with his emails [might even be 19, as he's working from home that day].  I think I'm pretty safe in betting he won't 'spot the difference' before he reads the automated email he gets for my posts!

I have to admit to doing all the female sneakinesses in my power to hide my activities [tidying, cleaning, and putting things back as they were before!], and also that my sneakiness is in a different league to his when I'm waiting to see how long it takes him to notice a thing is different - did I mention the haircut that left it 9 or 10" shorter that took [I think] over a week to become 'visible'?  And that's something he looks at every day...

After two years of changing the knobs on the bedside tables [and repeatedly "looking for nicer ones" in various shops] I did tell him about that one.

David tidying upstairs...

Maria untidying upstairs!

Nice seating area

David had moved most of the tools and clutter from the front wall in the grenier, and vacuumed the floor so that we could set out a table & chairs and our 'comfy' chairs whilst the weather was so hot - I don't mind the heat upstairs, but downstairs is so well insulated that it just builds and builds if we have the shutters open when it's baking.

Outside: 36C, upstairs 28C and downstairs 23C and gloomy [shutters are great for keeping out the heat/cold, but also keep out the light].  So warm enough, but not as furnace-like as sitting in the sun!

Tidy/clean floor

Well David's off to Spa at the moment on a couple of track days, so I've been left to my own devices.

The only problem with having comfy chairs upstairs and relaxing, is seeing the tar from where the builders removed the old chimney to make room for the flue for the wood-burning stove...

I think I mentioned that David had moved most of the tools, but he didn't hide my little blue metal tool box well enough to stop me finding my 'heavy' implements; I can't currently handle the big lump hammer, and my wide-bladed cold chisel seems to be off on it's holidays, but I managed to make a start.

Oops!

Should I have been doing this so soon after wrist surgery?

I don't know, but neither the surgeon nor the hand therapist said "don't start wielding lump hammers/cold chisels", so I'm guessing the answer has to be "yes"!

I only managed an hour and a half, and am being sensible, but it feels great to have made an improvement on the eyesore and I must be building up strength in the joints, no?

Seriously, Crocs?! Seriously?

I’m sitting here wearing bright green ‘clown shoes’, reading the warning tag that had been attached to them, and wondering “why escalator safety?” and “why not using-a-chair-instead-of-a-stepladder danger?” or even “hazard of crushing mockery for wearing clown shoes?”.  I’m mystified why that particular potential for harm merits a tag being printed off and attached to my new shoes, and no other.

Seriously, though, I have bought my first pair of Crocs [as opposed to “mock crocs” (Shoezone was out of their “2 for £8” offerings in either of our sizes, so we forked out £19.99 for each pair – 30% off – at Sports Direct); I own plenty of those] and so far I love them. Having a pretty high tolerance for put-downs [try growing up with my relatives and not developing a thicker skin!], I think I’m going to love them.

I own Croc winter shoes [no holes, removable fleecy linings], and boots [the only things I can wear (apart from Wellingtons) that don’t give me heel blisters] and plenty of other mule-type shoes, but this is the first time I’ve succumbed to genuine Crocs' “crocs”.

We shall see whether they last any longer, or withstand the really sharp stones on the farm tracks any better, than the cheapo alternatives, and that will dictate whether this is the first pair of many or the last.

As an aside: I’m typing away and, distracted by the ‘chattering’; I glanced at the window to see two black shapes flying in front of the bars – cue yelling at the swallows to “get out!” and “stay away!” – clearly time for another brood [and the weather here seems to have been wet – lush growth, so I suspect lots of yummy caterpillars/grubs to feed the babies on, so it would be great timing], and they frequently investigate the house for nesting sites if I don’t warn them off quickly enough.

It’s wonderful having them nesting here, but I’d prefer that they stick to the barn, and if it came to it they would too – our shutter-closing habits don’t work well with their late-evening-snack-gathering routine and they poo everywhere!