It's as I feared...
Work has ground to a halt, somewhere around the patch of ceiling above the dinner plate cupboard in the kitchen. This was an addition to the three jobs handed to the husband at the beginning of the week to do in his week off. A small leak had caused the paint to bubble up like Vesuvius, and I suggested that while he had the white paint out, he might as well sort that out too. Coming home yesterday afternoon I was greeted by the yard broom, gently propped up against the hall table and a Yellow Brick Road of dust sheets running up the stairs and into the kitchen.
'Nearly finished then?' I said optimistically. 'Almost', was his reply.
So the bathrooms are done (a beautiful job) the stairs are done (no more bald spots) but the square metre of kitchen ceiling is not quite finished. Going in to make myself a well earned cup of tea, I noticed the lack of stuff on my worktops. And then I found it. It looked like someone had tipped the house up from one end, so that anything not strapped down simply slid to one end. In this case, everything was huddled up by the microwave. I managed to find most of the things I needed for the obligatory cuppa, but as I write, I still haven't found the bucket I keep my eggs in.
Underneath the patch on the ceiling (now plastered at least) there was a large bundle of dustsheets, their sides hanging down over the cupboard doors like a drunk bride's frock.
I have a feeling that this may remain like this for some time unless I resort to violence, and I have started training Reg to attack anyone wearing hi-viz clothing.
Changing the subject completely, I have been wearing the middle aged lady version of a FitBit since Christmas. I have rechristened this the FatBat, and it is there purely for the reason to egg me on to walk 10,000 steps each day. I do alright most days, and over the week, I usually nail my 70,000 steps, which is great. It clips to my bra in a most satisfactory way, and I just forget I have it on whilst traipsing around the Home Counties each day.
Unfortunately, Miss R, my beloved sister, has bought an all singing and dancing one. This is waterproof, bombproof and nuclear resistant and is so accurate that it will even measure how long she sleeps. Why anyone needs to know how long they are asleep for is beyond me If I'm honest. I go to bed at 10 and wake up at 6. Eight hours, easy.
Anyway, she's also very competitive (stop denying it, you know you are) so we now have a challenge going on. But I don't think that this is very fair. My FatBat isn't waterproof, so I can't jog around in the shower or paddle in the bath to get extra steps. Mine is also rather ancient, and has a bit of 'I can't be bothered' on occasions. Perhaps a new battery is needed, who knows? Anyway, I shall never reach the number of steps she does, because she swims the equivalent of the English Channel each night, making my four mile walk look rather pathetic.
I tried attaching it to Percy's collar last time we had a challenge with marvellous results, but I can't do that again. Perhaps clipping it to the husband's roller this week might have been a good idea.
I probably missed a trick there...
PS Going AWOL for a couple of days....all will become apparent...