Today S is suffering from quite a severe case of shock….yesterday, you see, we agreed on something to do with interior decoration.
We have agreed on many things, of course, in order to embark on this whole project. Some of our agreements are made when we both discuss them and arrive at a decision. Others we find we telepathically agree on having never really discussed them at all….and others, namely to do with the interior decoration, we agree on by default simply because S doesn’t have the headspace to consider dilemmas I will happily spend hours mulling over so will (usually) delegate them to me. Oh …he’ll have an odd whine about never having a say and quite often he appears to be incredibly surprised at decisions we have agreed together to which he has no recollection … due in the most part to him not having listened when I talked at him. An example just today…
“Is our worktop coming out to here?”
“Because there would be no cupboards under it”
“Because thats where we are going to get C to build that L shaped shelving”
“Oh…but why not have worktop to here?”
“As theres no cupboards under….oh….get out of here!”
He does, however, hold the Chief Executive trump card in that he has the power to blackball any decision and will exercise this on the occasion. TV above mantlepiece….vetoed. Wood Smoke paint….vetoed. Under floor heating in the lounge…vetoed before I’d finished the sentence. Tiles in the hallway…..I’m thinking I still have some wriggle room as though I can see the card in his hand its not been played just yet….
What rarely happens, though, and what has left him still reeling, is that yesterday he managed to change my mind.
A few months ago we took a trip to the recycled glass company – Glasseco for your reference – who are based near Gatwick. It would be consistent of me to point out for any loyal followers of this blog that we attempted to get there without a sat nav. In the unlikely role of navigator I instead used the GPS on his phone which resulted in us seeing parts of Gatwick Airport reserved more usually for those wearing high vis. My defence is that the little marker on the GPS is too slow, alerting you to the fact that you have taken the wrong turning only after you have taken it. S’s position on it is that I’m bloody useless with technology and should be kept away from anything with buttons at all costs. We arrived an hour late for our appointment contemplating divorce.
Once there we soon forgot the journey and our quarrel. Instead we were so intrigued by what they had to show us that we quickly fell for a worktop made of finely crushed shell, mirror and glass. At that point we hadn’t considered any other element of our kitchen and you may remember that recently, having by then made those decisions, we requested a few more samples just so we could double check our choices. In my absence S had grown keen on one of the alternatives whilst I remained hooked on the original. Last night, with everything pulled together into a sample board style composition and the two of us crouched over it, I agreed that this once he was right. I may never live it down…..
This afternoon, new worktop requested, I set about starting the mist coat on the bare plaster….a watered down first coat which is meant to help seal and stop the subsequent coats peeling. I was hampered, however by the neccessity to purchase a bucket in which to mix my concoction and my inability to remember the PIN to my new card. A situation which, embarrassingly, had resulted in me asking a friend to buy me coffee and mortifyingly discovering that she only had the cash for one cup which she insisted be for me. I recounted the tale to C and, having re-checked my PIN, offered to pick up some bits he needed at B&Q assuming I hadn’t been locked out of my account after my three failed attempts. He, kindly, offered to come with me and put the items on his credit account if needed and so we embarked on a little shopping trip together. On our return, bonded by our visit, the conversations continued, mostly in Buildish which meant that for me it was a bit like going to France with schoolgirl French and catching the jist…nodding and hmmmmming politely in the places in which pauses indicate a response is expected. As a result neither of us got a great deal done. C recut the ply and marmoleum for the third attempt on the floor of the Worlds Smallest WC in addition to cutting the doors to the utility cupboards. Additionally he recounted in great detail how badly the foremans carpenter would be likely to fit the skirting based on his carpentry work elsewhere.
“You see these hinge plates? You see they aren’t flush? You could knock yourself on them.”
I considered, on a scale of one to ten, the dangers of knocking myself on the door hinges and figured it was probably less than one. Irritatingly the foreman has already approached C to quote for the skirting thus saving his (lazy?) carpenter the trip but C, overwhelmed by the thought of assessing how long it might take, opted not to bother.
My afternoon, aside from listening, was spent prepping for the painting which I began this evening. S and I have a kind of rota going with me starting this evening, him tomorrow and turns then taken over the weekend. From tonight’s experience I can confirm two things. The first is the paint is going on like a dream. The second is the dream will be lasting a long long long time which, in my book, escalates it to a bit of a nightmare. There’s going to be some long, white speckled, days ahead….and I’m not referring to the snow…
Cutting in and two sections of ceiling done….lots more to go….