Jigsaws And Jelly Beans
Hubby has been unwell now for almost six weeks, hosting a marvellous nagging dry cough that turned into a chest infection, which appears to have morphed into a throat thing. And today at work he tweaked his back. I’m not sure when things are meant to get better for the poor guy but as of this week it’s onward and upward. So after finishing his second course of antibiotics which by the way didn’t appear to help, I have raided the medicine cabinet, declared myself the household Online Medic and drugged him up for reno, rest and rumble. I am hopeful we can now proceed in an orderly, timely fashion.
The time has come to put colour on the walls, and luckily for everyone concerned choosing these shades wasn’t half as difficult as the kitchen cupboard doors some twelve months ago. Sample pots were purchased and walls patch-painted, and together we inspected, deliberated, chose and agreed. Done. It really was that simple. And fortuntely for The Boy, Bunnings had jelly beans as a bonus gift when you purchased eight litres of paint. Gotta love a bonus.
Fuelled by medication and the wonders of my cooking, Hubby has been putting in extraordinarily long hours on the better end of the paint brush in preparation for Sir Joe to deliver the goods. Beams, ceilings and walls have been painted, and skirtings, frames and arcs are prepped, puttied and ready to go.
He and The Boy were also in charge of preparing the base for the compressors so that Jason The King of Air could gas up and install the split systems. It’s a wonder his back didn’t give way during this little exercise because those concrete blocks are not exactly light. Watching those two work their magic suddenly made me realise why they would both be able to sleep through The Battle of Britain.
The arrival of Sir Joe of the Cabinetry was possibly the highlight of this entire year so far. Sir Joe and his trusty accomplice installed the bathroom and ensuite vanities, and the kitchen and pantry cabinet carcasses. The doors, bench tops and other bits and pieces were in transit, but this was enough for me to finally begin to see what the house will eventually look like. And it’s super exciting.
Another piece of the renovation puzzle was picked up recently, and I’m not just being funny. It will probably be the closest thing to a puzzle that we will ever have to do. Yep. The stone for the fireplace. I love it and I know it’ll look brilliant once it’s finished, but at the moment its just enormous boxes of heavy, irregularly cut stone chunks of varying colours and textures. But what I don’t love are jigsaws. In fact, I fondly call jigsaws Fire Starters. We may need to invest in the assistance of my Mum for this one. She is the Jigsaw Queen.
Even though he has been crook Hubby has still keeps ploughing on, managing to almost finish the tiling in the kid’s bathroom. I haven’t seen him this happy in ages. For a sparky he makes a pretty good tiler. Not too flash at plumbing, but definitely a good tiler. I, on the other hand, am four and a half weeks post surgery and haven’t been able to be good at much lately but I finally struck up the courage to pick up a paint brush. As a token gesture I managed to go over the skirting boards and door frames, and other thin wood bits, so at last I am feeling slightly useful.
The last few weeks have really been a struggle. The weather is still crap and we have had so much rain I’ve considered building an Ark. Even though it’s no longer bitterly arctic, I am not the only one praying for the sun to come out for more than an hour at a time. I now understand why the English are eternally crabby.
As the twelve month mark passed last week, I write this whilst vaguely shaking my head which is filled with the smell of late Spring and mixed emotions. On one hand I’m bitterly disappointed Mr Fifty-Seven Percent wasn’t a tad more accurate with his time-frame projection, because now I am faced with writing out another year’s Christmas Cards in somebody else’s lounge room. So much so I decided to enlist in the help of the minors, and decide to bribe them to assist in my quest to get the job done. Although not impressed, said bribe ultimately does the trick.
Yet, on the other hand I understand Rome wasn’t built in a day. Nor was it built by one man trying desperately to juggle a job, a neurotic wife and two teenage children, a phone that doesn’t stop ringing, the man flu and a reno with constantly changing goal posts.
It seems we really did open Pandora’s box. And boy, has she got a beastie box.