We’re redecorating. It’s a thought to get started, but once you do it’s good fun. Newly married, cleaning the nest out, all that sort of thing.
We got the bus back to Saltcoats from B&Q, went into The Elms for a quick pint, and rang a taxi to get us home from there because we had all kinds of tins of paint.
“You’ve picked a funny time of year to start painting”, said the taxi driver. Fiona later told me, her Ma used the self same phrase.
Hmm. It’s as if the house becomes a place of worship at Christmas. Sod that. We’ve tried in the past to ignore Christmas, unsuccessfully. This year we’ve got a little fibre optic flashing tree in the window. Fiona remarked wisely that it’s a dark time of year, so why not cheer it up with gaudy lights? That persuaded me, as a zen paganist. So we’re going along with it. A bit. We won’t be painting on the big day itself, but we’re not going to watch bloody telly, either.