Neil has returned and we are back on the tiles. Neil is anyway…I am still painting trying to get upstairs ready for carpets to be fitted.
The front hallway and utility room, boot room and cloakroom all require tiling so it’s a matter of sticking on the knee pads and just getting on with it. A little bit of maths, a straight edge, a laser and he’s off.
I too am clad in much-needed knee pads (Silverline gel pads from Toolstation which I highly recommend) whilst I paint the skirting installed upstairs along with the architrave and door stops. Painting could or should be therapeutic giving you time to contemplate life, loves, etc. The only thing going around my head is that I will have to do the same amount of painting again once the skirting etc is installed downstairs.
Swear word, swear word!!!!!!!
Despite having lots of time on my own I am way behind on social duties …phoning family, replying to emails, contacting friends with a smiley hello. To be fair, if I sent a smiley hello to some of my friends they would be down here in a flash worried about my mental health. But you get the gist. I am feeling guilty about my lack of communication.
I cannot really account for the time. I do start pretty early – around 0630 rise and shine and on the tools as soon as I have had some tea and breakfast – this week I am loving a banana on toast! It’s also a physical job and I am not as fit as I was or as young as I was or as slim as I was or as capable as I hoped I might be! Or in more simple words, I am huffing and puffing my old, fat self up and down ladders trying to get jobs done and it is very tiring.
But …there may be another reason for my lack of contact. My inflatable mattress sits around 8 inches off the ground. Once I sit or lie down on it, I find it incredibly difficult to get back up and not just because I am tired…well you try it. There is no comfortable way to get up…its a matter of flapping and rolling about to eventually end up on my knees. Then I take the form of a Sumo wrestler (minus the oversized loin cloth) and haul myself up. My friend Annie (personal trainer) would tell me I need to work on my core. Maybe so…but actually I just need to sleep on a proper bed.
So …at the end of my working day, I visit Mr. Clooney for a warm hello and cook my dinner, return to the house for a hose-down and refresh, and sit or lie down on the mattress as it’s the only place that is comfortable. And there you have it…me stuck for several hours wondering how I am going to get up again.
And to think, I thought this was something to worry about in old age…Heck, wait a minute.
When does ‘old age’ start?