Sitting on my balcony this evening with a glass of pink wine, looking at pink clouds in the sky and watching an unbelievably pink jet-trail making its way across the sky, like a jewelled feather. It has been the most perfect day today, and if the old-fashioned weather forecasting methods are to be believed, it will be lovely again tomorrow. I do hope so, because I have spent most of today indoors, painting. Not the artistic sort of painting, but the domestic sort - with a brush, a damp cloth and a pot of Regency White acrylic eggshell. It all started on Monday this week, when the long-awaited makeover of my two double bedrooms began. It has meant completely emptying each bedroom in turn so that the manky old carpet could be lifted, cut up and taken to the Tip.
Daughter, the Boyfriend (and Grandson) helped me move the furniture on Sunday, so that I was ready for Monday morning. Promptly at 9am, the lovely Guy arrived to cut up and dispose of the said carpet. He then proceeded to sand, repair and fill gaps in the floorboards, and finally painted them with special floor paint. A lovely off-white colour. It looks gorgeous - a sort of cross between a beach hut and a New England house. The only problem was that as soon as we started putting furniture back, everything else looked tatty. Hence the reason why I have spent today painting. I have done the chest of drawers, the base of the Rocking Horse, and all the skirtings. And I have washed and re-hung the blue and white striped curtains. And rehung the pictures, which I've decided can only be sea-themes. So we have sea horses, painted beach huts, a collection of shells and miniature boats and a lovely beach scene. My hands are a total mess, but it all looks great. Well worth doing.
It took 3 days to do the first room, including an impromptu decision give the walls a fresh coat of white emulsion because they looked so awful when the floor had been done. And now we are at Friday, with me sleeping in the spare room, and the floorboards in my bedroom undergoing the same treatment. All well and good, but I have a Student arriving on Sunday, so all the stuff which was dumped in the single room has to be moved in with me tomorrow. Never mind, it will be wonderful when it's finished.
I have also decided to buy a new mattress for my bed, which is long overdue. When I was talking to the lovely girl at Mattressman (where else?) she asked how old my current mattress was. I was reluctant to admit to it, but did say that Son was 29 and my mattress was about the same age (actually I'm ashamed to admit that it's even older). She laughed and said that any mattress I buy now will be manufactured quite differently from the old one, and that I should go and try some mattresses before deciding on anything. She was very nice, and that does seem reasonable, but I'm reluctant to go into a bed shop and lie down, as she suggested. I have to decide soon, as I know that if I wait until my room is finished and the bed reassembled, I just won't do it. I have a lovely old oak bed, and when the floor is painted (and everything else I expect) the room will look wonderful. I know what you're thinking, photos are needed, and I promise to get my act together.
One of the reasons why I have been such a dilatory Blogger of late (beside the aforementioned activity) is that I decided, a month ago, to enter a Short Story Competition. I didn't want to talk about it beforehand, as I often find that if I talk about things I just don't do them. This time I was determined to actually get on with it, and I have been writing, editing, re-writing and generally agonising over it for the last four weeks. I gave myself a deadline (in fact the actual competition deadline is 30th September), and I stuck to it. I have been structuring my day so that I walk, shower, breakfast and then write. And it did work - I've posted my entry, and somehow it doesn't matter in the least what the result is - or isn't. The fact is that I've done it, and I'm going to do it again. Next month I'm going to find another competition to enter. It's all very well me calling myself a writer, but actually it's time to JFDI.
Last weekend with Grandson was just lovely, and we were very lucky with the weather. On Saturday we walked along by the sea to the playground, and spent a lively few hours there with a picnic. Then on Sunday morning we met up with Daughter and the Boyfriend at the Car Boot Sale, where I found a new copy of "The Tiger who Came to Tea" for Grandson. We came back here and moved furniture, and then went off to the Jack and Jill Windmills for the last time this year. It was the perfect afternoon, with a blue sky and a brisk breeze. I'm perfectly happy just sitting there in the sunshine with a cup of tea, watching the sails go round - it's quite magical.