At the crack of dawn this morning my son set off for his appointment with the doctor and I rolled up my sleeves and began the decorating. I am very fond of the late great Al Bowlly, a thirties singer that few people have heard of today, I painted for an hour or so while listening to his gorgeous voice. Painting with a roller in a confined space is hard on the elbows as you keep knocking in to things and soon Al's dulcet tones were drowned out by the sound of cursing. At about the same time as I broke the roller extension we broke for breakfast. Richard had returned with the news that his blood pressure was down and with yet another appointment with a cardiologist, our neighbour had arrived ready to start cataloguing again so I made masses of piklets, a northern delicacy rather like a cross between a pancake and a crumpet all sprinkled over with sultanas and eaten with butter and honey or golden syrup,they are delicious.
When we had eaten we carried on with our allotted tasks and I hared off to home base for a new extension. With the Kinks greatest hits blasting through the upper story and with only occasional breaks for tea, coffee, fresh air or just a good moan we worked solidly all day, some times I was painting Some times my son was painting, as we could not get the bed out (there was no where to put it) it was at times rather like painting on a trampoline and not at all convenient to some one with a dodgy knee, still by five we had finished the painting and washed all the rollers, brushes and trays.
Starving and in a state of collapse we sent Pa to bring home the fish and chips, incidentally he has been great these past days, getting up on time and making endless cups of tea or just keeping things ticking over while we indulged in the paint fest! As the last of the rubbish went out through the door my son's new mattress arrived, its a memory foam one and very comfy, it has no springs thank heaven, his old mattress used to sound like a haunted dungeon clanking and groaning every time he moved, visitors who came on his working week were often alarmed by the frightful racket!
Tomorrow we can put everything back in place, except the mountain of books that will I hope be picked up by a book dealer next week, I just hope he has a big enough van. The whole house is a perfect tip and it will take a while to get things back to normal. I have informed my darling boy that if he fills his room to such an extent again I shall order a skip for the rubbish, a removal van for the rest of his possessions and contact an estate agent to find him a barn to live in, I jest of course.
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