Day off today, but had the painters were here so I felt like a guest in my own house - you know how you get that feeling they'd rather have you out of the way, so they could do as they please? So I went off to Little River for lunch. Gorgeous day, the air smelled like vanilla from all the plum blossom. Fell asleep in the sun at Halswell Quarry on the way back. Got back and the painter was a bit annoyed; apparently I'd given them the wrong colour name. But after a look at my old colour charts, I am vindicated; can I help it if paint companies use the same name for two different colours over two different years? Of course, his attitude was that I'm a silly little woman who doesn't know her arse from her elbow - don't you HATE that? But I've got the paint chart to prove it. Sometimes it is a good idea to keep things, not throw them out.
They've started on my bedroom, so I'm all squoozed up in the spare room but it's not too bad. Problem is the dust, not just the clean plaster dust but the mouldy crud from the old wallpaper. I can feel my nose blocking up as I write.
My friend Maggie came round this morning, and I was telling her about brave Thom's rat catching exploits. When I came home tonight, guess what? I've been given another rat as a present, laid out in the usual viewing place at the back of the pear tree. Don't know if he gave it to me to cheer me up, or as a thankyou for having extolled his hunting prowess. I like getting rats as long as they're well dead; it means there's one fewer to make more rats. People go on about how terrible cats are for killing the native birds, but if we didn't have cats we'd also be knee deep in vermin, and the rats would be eating the baby birds anyway.
No comments:
Post a Comment