Tag: painting

Paint all the things

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OK. Just time to squeeze a quick post in before the United game.

What a day. An absolute scorcher, and for some reason, in addition to doing all the usual, sensible jobs inside, I decided to get to painting all the bits outside that needed painting. And after that, I painted several of the inside bits that needed painting as well. Skirting boards, living room walls, bedroom walls, outside walls, gateposts, plant pots, plant troughs. If it stayed still for any length of time, it got painted.

The biggest mystery is how the beagle – which is notoriously sedentary – got away without a fresh coat of paint.

Well, that and how I’m still on my feet after 18,000 of your South African steps. If this week continues as it has been going (and how would it continue in any other way?), there’s a real chance that this will beat my 7 day record for steps. And that’s almost 130,000.

Numbers.

If it wasn’t for the match later, I’d be in bed already, but this is the last chance to enjoy evening football at a decent hour, given that the clocks go back in the UK this coming weekend, and therefore every night time game finishes at midnight.

I will still watch those games, obviously. I will just be more broken.

Slow progress

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The infernal painting mission continues. Ugh.

It’s taking up all my time and the progress is very slow. Such a frustrating task.

The results (such as they are so far – I’m only about halfway done) do look good, but my worry is that I’ll be so sick of the sight of the room by the time it’s finished, that I won’t actually enjoy being in there.
It certainly feels that way at the moment.

I just, obviously. I’m sure once we are finally finished – whenever that might be – all will be well, and it’ll quite possibly my favourite room in the house. Right now, that honour goes to the one with the bed in it.

Knackered.

No let up this weekend either: dodgeball, riding, catering, shopping for trips away: an overnight West Coast trip (not me), a week-long school tour to the Garden Route (not me), and that trip to Robben Island (me). And probably some more bloody painting (definitely me).

Busy times.

Balance

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After a lovely morning wander on the Mountain…

…the gas fire in the new bar was officially fitted, and then it was lots of jobs for me which had been on a bit of a hold pending that work. Mainly horribly fiddly painting, which isn’t anywhere near finished, but is at least now started. And with the 6Music soundtrack, a blast from the past from Mary-Ann Hobbs, which will have to be shared:

With loadshedding having done for tonight’s football (thank you, ANC), I’m at another Dodgeball training session. Sigur Ros is on the noise-cancelling Marshall earbuds, wiping out the overtly loud Amapiano mix here.

Tomorrow will bring more painting (oh joy!), but I’m hoping there will be a tangible, noticeable difference by this time tomorrow evening, which will – obviously – make it all worthwhile.

Day 400 – Marking milestones

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It’s 400 days since SA embarked on its Coronavirus lockdown. Back then, we weren’t even allowed out of our property.
Since that day, we’ve been through two fairly horrendous waves of Covid-19, several alcohol and smoking bans, beach restrictions, economic disaster, and a stuttering, non-starting vaccination programme. Currently, our R number – marking the progress and pace (or not) of viral infections in the country – is sitting at 1.03, meaning that we’re ever so very slightly on the wrong side of where we’d like to be, but equally, that things aren’t nearly as terrible as they have been or could be. And that R number is currently being fuelled by minor outbreaks in the Northern Cape and the Free State. Touch wood, with the major centres doing ok at the moment, we’re still not seeing any sign of the expected Third Wave. Long may it continue.

Which does make one wonder why there’s still a midnight to 4am curfew.
Not that I had any plans for that particular period.
Other than sleeping.
Which is allowed.

Another milestone today: our wedding anniversary. The day each year when I sit back and reflect upon just why Mrs 6000, very much of Champions League standard, is still happily existing in my Sheffield & Hallamshire County Senior League Second Division company. I’ve no idea either, but I’m very happy that she still seems content with my muddy, clod-hopping, somewhat makeshift agricultural style. Not much skill, but a whole lot of effort. As the actress said to the Bishop.
We’re going out to celebrate at a very good restaurant this evening.
But we’ll be back before midnight, Cyril. I promise.

I have spent much of the day painting. Not in any artistic sense, more in the “I’m not old enough for this Antique Cream to seem anywhere near acceptable in my house” sense.
I’m obliterating it all with brilliant white. Or rather, I was, until I ran out of paint. Very frustrating.

Soundtrack to my endeavours was provided by The Streets. I went for their Spotify catalogue, which has loads of live stuff, remixes and collaborations. Really nice trip (no pun intended) down memory lane, and one which culminated in me singing Fit But You Know It to the somewhat bewildered beagle.

A proper highlight of a milestone day for all concerned.

Day 332 – The day of rest

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And on the seventh day, God rested.
God clearly didn’t have DIY to do.

The cottage in the back garden was the initial focus of the family’s efforts this morning. There really is no excuse for the amount of Antique Cream on the walls and woodwork of this house.
We began to annihilate it with pure white. Clean, crisp, not beige.

And then, while the kids went and did Scouts stuff, the grown-ups tackled the peach study.
We’re going for a grey in there. After all:

Grey is often perceived as a classic, sleek and refined neutral colour. Grey is highly adaptable and used by designers to let other colours shine, as it is subtle and can be either warm or cool. Best used as a restful backdrop to complement the mood you’re trying to create. It can also be combined with more playful colours.

Yeah. That’s me: classic, sleek, and refined. Highly adaptable.
And I’m all about creating a restful mood.

And there’s such variety. I counted more than 49 different varieties in the special shop I was at earlier. Amazing.

There is one slight hitch. The peach doesn’t want to give up. It’s fighting back through two coats of Boulders Plume*. I’m reminded of Adrian Mole using a felt tip pen to colour in the bells on Noddy’s hat after thirteen coats of black paint in his bedroom.

Has there ever been a more sublimely comic vignette of teenage angst than the sorry tale of Adrian Mole and his Noddy wallpaper?
In a series of diary entries over a torrid week one May, Mole, aged 13¾, decides that he can no longer sleep in a room papered with Enid Blyton characters (“positively indecent”) and paints his walls a vinyl, silk-finish black.

It does not work out well for him.

“Wednesday May 27th. Third coat. Slight improvement, only Noddy’s hat showing through now.”

“Friday May 29th. Went over hat bells with black felt-tip pen, did sixty-nine tonight, only a hundred and twenty-four to go.”

We’re not quite at that stage yet, but we’re certainly not grey yet either.

Soon.

 

* seriously, who makes these names up?