A lesson in painting

Or maybe not....maybe it was just a lesson for me.

 

2 weeks ago I undertook an endeavour to give the fence panels a coat of fence protector and paint the concrete posts and panels a lovely warm cream colour. 

Last year, we had managed to save enough money to have a gardener clear all the debris out and lay a patio of indian stone paving.  The fence panel on the left of the photo is a 'before' - as you can see the cursory coat given last year by the gardener leaves a lot to be desired and I was confident I could do a much better job.

 

Having 4 dogs, who like eating plants, dictated that we needed a large area for them and I wanted a raised patio area that the dogs could not get too.  The gardener put a little trellis fence and gate up for me which will be replaced because my Dad took one look at it and started with "What you need is....." So I am guessing I can put a weeks worth of annual leave to one side to help him with that as Hubby has palpatations at the mere mention of anything DIY related.

The new patio was all well and good except we didn't have the money for garden furniture.  This year we bought the garden furniture, just in time for the heatwave and I can report I am a nice brown colour (well, the front of me is) as a result of the sun lounger and many cosy BBQs Hubby has manned over the last 4 weeks.  Now it was time to tie everything together, paint the fence panels and put some plants in.  Ribena Tina to the rescue!

 

I am sure that the last time I decided to give the fence panels a coat of protector it didn't take me as long.  This year, along with the concrete panels, it took 2 days and a total of 20 hours!  I didn't mind seen as I may have overdone the sun bathing on my front half the two days before.  Facing fence panels all day meant I could keep my tender face out of the suns rays but still be in the sun - that was my compromise....Hubby was thrilled at my attempt to stay safe as you can imagine! 

Engaging the common sense part of my brain, and trust me that does not happen very often when I am at home, I used I don't know how many garbage bags and masking tape to protect the indian stone paving we paid a fortune for last year.



Took me ages just to put the garbage bags down!

The time it took to place those garbage bags where they needed to go was ridiculous.  The swearing at the gusts of wind that blew them everywhere just after the masking tape had been put on was a waste of energy and would have been comical for someone to watch.  I almost needed a vodka, lime and lemonade to recover but 8am was really too early to start drinking!

As you can see, the time spent laying the garbage bags was well worth it - I am not the tidiest of people when it comes to painting.  Let's just say it is a good job I didn't decide decorating would be a great career to embark on.

It must have taken me nearly 2 hours to paint the first 2 panels but it was well worth it!  You can see the difference between the nasty grey concrete panel above and the nice cream colour in the photo below.  Off course, the cream paint covered up all the splashes of fence protector I managed to get on the concrete panels....

 

Now the trellis fence is left and as it's replacement is at least a year away that is the next job.  I am not convinced that I could paint it quickly and completely without having to cover most of the garden in garbage bags.  Each individual square obviously has a top, bottom and sides that need painting on the inner square and I can only imagine how much fun that will be.

 

Engaging the common sense part of my brain the fence will come down, be taken in the nearest alley way and painted, dried and then put back.  The dogs will need monitoring that day because they will think all their Christmases have come at once when they can get to the top part of the patio and Hubby may just lose his mind that day corraling them back in the house.

 

Except...the removal of anti-inflammatories has gotten in the way and I am struggling to hold a book up when reading at the moment so the idea of holding a paint brush all day is pain enough.  I wonder if I can convince Beautiful B that it would be a brilliant idea to help mum out by painting it for me.....

Painting Conversations

While a but bored painting fences last week I started an email trail with Hubby who was working hard at his proper job (as opposed to the unpaid one which is keeping me safe and himself sane) before he received my first email.... 

Dear Mr Hubby, 

I think it only fair to give you sufficient warning.......

It is unlikely that all the fence panels will be finished today because it has taken me until 12.40pm to paint 4 1/2 panels and at this rate (including the estimated time to paint the concreate panels and posts cream) I expect it will take me a full 2 days, possibly more, could be 4 days depending on how bored I get.

Because it is boring I sometimes find myself thinking that fence painting is really a mans job but seen as you are working so hard 6 days a week so I can buy pretty flowery things for the garden it is the least that I can do.

I will forgoe cleaning the house and ignore all the bits of freddy fluff and bits of new carpet that are lying about in order to see if putting this years coat of wood protector makes it look any different than it did when I started - though the bits that had no paint on them now do but that might be because they are still wet.

You will be much relieved to know that I took 30 minutes this morning after engaging the miniscule part of my brain that stores common sense to cover the very expensive indian stone paving with rubbish bags (empty of course) and masking tape before I started painting.  I knew it was a good idea when I realised that I needed to wash my glasses and remove the paint splatter from them.  At the same time I thanked my lucky stars I had not inserted contact lenses this morning because I am not convinced I could drive myself to Accident and Emergency with only one working eyeball.

You will be less happy to know that I have not 'creamed myself up' (as you so eloquently put it) with suncream this morning for a number of reasons:

1.  it is cloudy with only a bit of sun

2.  it is getting cloudier (and woe betides the individual responsible for any rain later today)

3.  I am facing away from any sun so the only thing likely to get tanned are the back of my arms, which quite frankly, could do with some colour

4.  I am coated in that much paint I suspect it is doing a better job than the sun cream would.

Now turning to the less interesting stuff:

1.  Did you get back in contact with the man about the chair and microwave?

2.  Have you let C (my brother) know that we will indeed be at his house on Saturday at around 4.15pm?

3.  Have you rang mum and told her that I will collect her at 8am on Saturday to take her shopping?

and finally, I love you, until all of the stars fall out of the sky.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Realising that he was going to have to respond to have any hope of eventually being left alone to earn his salary, Hubby replied with:

No wonder its taking you so long to paint the fence because:

a: you're emailing me, and;

b: you're getting more on yourself than you are the fence panels!!

re the less interesting stuff:

a: not yet haven't seen him but am on it!!! (he is still on it....)

b: change of plan as only just found out no overtime this weekend

c: phoned mum last night (IN FRONT OF YOU!!!) (oopsie, there goes my memory again!) to tell her re shopping.  lol

 

have a thought around that now though as overtime is off, will discuss with you later

 

loves u too

 

xxxxxxxxx

 

As you can see he is a man of far  less words than I! 

Naturally I replied (because we women like the last word) ....with this:

I have far too much to do to waste time thinking about days which are a day away. As for wasting time emailing you I am sure they say that communication is the secret of a fantastic marriage. 

Xxxx

Hubby already bored with my twittering replied very simply with: 

What's for dinner?

xxxxxx

Thinking 'this man is cruising for a brusing, I replied rather quickly with:

Tea is whatever you are making. 

 

K had a thought. (It took a while, I was now responding to his previous request for me to have a think about the weekend plans) Turns out I can multi task at home as well as work. We will take mum shopping Sat afternoon and them go to C's after that. 

 

Oh and seen as you are no longer working overtime this weekend there is a paintbrush with your name on it when you get home 

 

Told u I loved you! Xxx

I could tell he was on the ropes with the next response:

Thought I binned that personalised paintbrush??????

 

What is there for me to make dinner with?

 

xxxxxx

 

Thinking that he had received and understood my desire for him to help me paint fence panels my response went like this: 

No I have not binned said paintbrushes. Or you may have done and I have ordered you a brand new set personalised with "Mr Hubby - Ribena's world and handyman when she had undertaken a job too big for herself". As you can tell they are big ass brushes! 

As for dinner, no idea, I am sure you will find something with which to work your magic xxxx

Hubby clearly thinking about his bike ride home in 26 degrees of heat simply said:

Chinese or 5 star (kebab takeaway) ?

 

xxxxx

My response told him I knew him well by now: 

Now I knew you were going to say takeaway!  It is getting sunnier and hotter so it is probably the best thing to do especially if you are going to help me in the garden after tea.  I say say 5 star because I fancy a chicken kebab.  I need to use up all these extra calories I have burned today!  I mean it must be 100s I have burnt. 

Of course this conversation spanned over 2 hours because I was painting fences and Hubby was attempting to get work done despite my interruptions and the sun had finally decided to show her face permanently. 

So what was the outcome?  Chicken Kebab and I resumed painting fences on my own as the bike ride home had nearly killed my husband. 

The morals of this long winded tail of a loving conversation between Hubby and wife?  

1. Tell your husband what you want him to make for tea; do not give him choices! 

2.  Despite hinting and finally telling him you wanted him to help you in the garden, if he hates DIY the likelihood of it happening are about 2% at best without the use of physical or mental torture! 

Sometimes I despair

I love my Hubby, more than life itself but sometimes I wonder how he would cope if I died when it comes to DIY or any type of repairs!  

I've come out of watching Man of Steel (fabulous fun by the way) to a text from Beautiful B telling me that something must be leaking in the bathroom cupboard because her bedding is wet and 2 of them have mould on. Clearly, then, whatever is leaking has been doing it for quite some time. Naturally, I call Hubby who says he has had a look and can only find a single drip but he hasn't done anything like run the shower to see if that leak is more powerful when the shower is running. 

He thinks that it is a copper pipe leaking when the plumber used plastic ones when fitting the shower. As I informed him, that may be the case but if he has run that pipe off another one that connects to that copper pipe it may leak if it hasn't been closed off properly. Silence on the phone people; silence! 

We can apparently have a look when I get home or tomorrow when he is at work. I am more likely than Hubby to insist the plumber returns to fix it and that it does not cost a penny. I'm also more likely to insist that we are refunded for the bedding too!  As much as I do not like confrontation, Hubby hates it more than I do. 

Lastly, doesn't it always happen when you are short of funds!  

So I will sit watching The Purge with part of my brain on leaky pipes. Great!  Which is probably why Hubby didn't text to tell me; he would have thought there was no point worrying me as I can't do anything about it here!  And that there peeps is why I love him do!  

Thinking about it, I am covered by the insurance and Britush Gas for leaky pipes so knowing that I can watch the film in peace. 

Oh and on a totally different note: WOLVERINE is back.....half NAKED!!!! Can I book my front row seat for the films release now?  

Pain or pills; that is the question

Having given myself backache over the weekend, because let's face it that is what I did - lugging about heavy bin bags full of things for recycling and cleaning almost all weekend is not the best of ideas, I have suffered for 2 days (today is Wednesday and I am trying to be organised and get a post done for tomorrow).

I have some pills which are great.  I only take them intermittently and they are prescribed to help the pains I get in my arms and hands when the barrage of other pills I have for my condition aren't enough.  Luckily I don't have to take them very often but I do know that they are that strong if I take more than 4 I get a bit cuckoo.

On Monday night I took two as I was in agony with my back; they help the pain in my hand so it stands to reason they would help the back pain.  I woke up at silly o'clock on Tuesday morning courtesy of Cala Fluff and took another two.  We are looking, therefore, at a 6 hour time frame between doses.

I drove to work as normal and started work quite happily; gingerly but happily - pain, after all, doesn't affect my sense of humour.  I was passing sweets around work; after all if I am going to ruin my teeth others can share the fun.

By 10am I was feeling sleepy and I was suffering from some double vision.  I wasn't overly worried because I have had those side effects before.  However, they just continued to get worse and by the afternoon I was struggling to keep my eyes open at work.  The need to constantly try to adjust eye focus was tiring and more than a little frustrating.

I did actually nod off at one stage and I am not sure if anyone noticed but I was mortified none the less.  By 5pm I'd had enough and made an appointment at the GP to discuss the medication.

The need for medication, in my head, is simple.  I want medication that will take away (or at least take the edge) off the pain so I can stay at work and still do a half decent job.  Instead I have a pill that I cannot function with and I'd like to know how I would cope if ever need to take more than 4 pills!

I cannot take any pill that is codeine based as it can cause migraines (if only they had told me that prior to the operation because that was one of the medications they systematically provided me with - rant over.

I had arranged to see Angel last night and i wasn't about to postpone just because I was seeing 2 of everything.  She knew immediately that something was wrong and when I agreed to go home at 9am no other evidence was needed to demonstrate how tired i must have been.

Leaving Angel's house after insisting I did not need a taxi to get home she made me promise to call her when I got home.  That I did from my bed because on arriving home I took myself off to bed without passing go or collecting £200.  

I slept most of the night and when the dogs did look as though they were going to start insisting I get up I put them back at the bottom and thankfully they settled back down.  

So did I sleep well - yes, but I don't feel refreshed today.  I don't have any vision issues but I amd getting extremely tired at work.

Morral

Don't take any more Tramadol, put up with the pain at least until Friday morniing because i at least have to be able to work and important look like I am working.  I'm on leave tomorrow so I can lie in bed or potter about at lest so I don't have to struggle at work. 

In the meantime I have to get through today and at this rate it will be another day of trying to look like my eyes don't want to lose a battle and sleep and quietly remind myself that I can go straight to bed when I get homes.


 





 

DIY and Hubby

Hubby hates DIY which is understandable as DIY appears to hate Hubby.  In previous years, Dad has tried to teach Hubby how to do DIY to no avail. 

Which is why, one of my Pocket Dragons is especially apt:

Hubby on the left and me on the right dreading the injury he could cause

One New Year's Eve a few years ago I received a phone call at work.  The office was quiet with few people in as people had party organising to do and I took one for the team.  

Hubby:     "Don't panic."  - why do people say that, because you know something is wrong!

Me:          "Which means I should.....what's wrong, what's happened?" - ears prick up throughout the office.

Hubby:     "I'm okay, I've cut my thumb and M is taking me to A&E as we think it needs stitches."

Me:       "Are you okay, I can meet you at the hospital...." etc, after all in my book work does not shine a candle to my family.

Hubby:  "No it's okay hon, I'm fine, I will meet you at home, don't panic." - which I did 

Having got over the initial shock of Hubby needing hospital treatment and knowing he was as 'okay' as he could be I asked what he did. 

Me:       "How did you do it honey?"

Hubby:  "I was sorting out your PS2."

Me:       "How do you end up needing stitches plugging in a PS2?"

Hubby:  "I used the kitchen scissors to cut the cable tie and it slipped."

Me:       "You used a blunt pair of scissors to cut it a cable tie and manage to cut your thumb to the extent that stitches are required?!"

Dad being the OCD clean freak (obviously where I get it from) had cable tied all my electrics to keep them neat and tidy.  Apparently not the best thing to have done where Hubby was concerned.  

I'm unsure how his thumb was even in the way but you can guarantee that instead of finding a sharp pair of scissors he used force and when the cable cut the force didn't stop.  

Only my Hubby could do the damage he did with a blunt pair of scissors. Hubby came home with the biggest dressing I have seen and REALLY strong painkillers.  Despite making him ill he took them and from that alone I could only imagine the pain he was in.  Instead of cutting down into his finger, he had cut across through and across the pad of his thumb.  All they could do was dress it and wait for new skin to grow.

Fast forward 2 days later when the dressing was first changed, I went to support him (watching all things murder and numerous operations on hospital I would be a tower of strength) only to sit in the corner feeling physically sick at the pain he was in because somehow they had put a dressing on that stuck to the open wound.

Not being able to put him though so much pain I refused to dress it for him and insisted that he was seen by nurses at our GP for the required re-dressing every 2 days as they could treat him properly.  After a month, it was my duty for another 2 months.  

Fast forward 6 months and the pain in his thumb is still extreme at the slightest pressure across his thumb and it is determined surgery is needed.  More dressings for 2 months as essentially they had to start the skin re-growth from scratch.

Fast forward to now and Hubby is reluctant to do DIY that involves any kind of implement that he can injure himself with, which is anything to be honest.  Understandable really.

   

Oops

Want to know why my wardrobes look like this?

I'll give you a clue - it isn't because of me!

Hubby does my ironing - this is not his latest bout of ironing; no, if it were that you would see a smaller selection because his idea of a mammoth ironing session is a maximum of 5 items.

No, hubby wanted to be helpful.  By helpful I mean putting the clothes away for me onto the nice gadgety hanger thing (yes, another phrase in the Ribena dictionary).

As my mum is one of those that believes the best things come in small packages, I am tiny - but only in height mind you.

When I designed my floor to ceiling wardrobes I forgot that a split level wardrobe meant that I wouldn't be able to reach the top rail.  For two years I have hunted around the house for the small stool or jumped up and down like tigger on a pogo stick in a vain attempt to take something from the top rail. 

So we bought a rail that is attached to two spring loaded arms.  When you pull down the handle the rail lowers to shoulder height - there is probably a technical word for this but I have no idea what it is.  It was my saving grace; after all until I get to a much lower weight me jumping up and down on an invisible pogo stick is not a pretty sight.

Hubby did the ironing, hung it on the front of the wardrobe (all 5 items mind you) and then pulled the handle.  I was relaxing on the bed, in some small way trying to look somewhat feminine (not seductive mind, it was after all daytime...) and you know when you can see 5 seconds into the future?  My mind does not go at 88 MPH nor does it transport me into the future or past though some would argue that at times it does transport me to another plant but I digress...

I knew what was going to happen.  Hubby was either going to "forget" or just not use that wonderful brain of his to remember that being spring loaded you must take the weight of it before it hits the bottom.  Gravity alone means that the sheer weight of the many much required items I had placed on the hanger meant that taking the strain is necessary.  Except he didn't and my mouth did not kick in as fast as my brain.

This is the result: 

You can bet I didn't rely on Hubby to put a new one in!  No, I called my Dad.

Holidays are coming.....

Okay, I could go all sorts of places with that so firstly lets get this out of the way.......Christmas is nearly here - whoop.  I know Christmas is coming because Next has put out their Christmas ware for sale.  Hubby rolled his eyes when I got excited - just wait until the red votive holders with berries arrive.....

I am holidaying again - at home but it is a holiday away from work and I desperately need that for more reasons than I was spending all hours there lately.

One main reason was that they have some semi-stupid rule to help manage their annual leave policy that you cannot carry more than 10 days over into a new leave year - I had 14 plus more flexi than you can shake a stick at.

The other main reason was the sky man - no he was not cute, though he was 7 foot tall so I had a crick in my neck when he went after his recent visit - because besides doing all sorts of wonderfulness such as rewiring the phone lines to the virgin phone line so that the sky boxes can send their whizzy messages back and forth and replacing satelitte dishes and various accessory parts he wanted to replace my HD box. 

....Now understand, the HD box, only throws a wobbly every now and again but he was concerned because it is a babe in terms of age and he was concerned that it's wobbleness was wobbling in a way he had never heard of before. Nevertheless, I refused to let him replace it because I had 76% worth of programmes to watch on it, the majority of which are not in HD format so you can imagine the number of programmes I wanted to plough through.

Being the nice man that he is, though I suspect it is also some kind of service Sky offer, he gave me his card, told me to watch my programmes and give him a call any time in the next month and he would come and replace the box and give me a further crick in my neck - after all I am just slightly taller than 5 foot nothing.

So that is what my aim is this week - not to clean, I must not spend the week cleaning and doing jobs that my brain tell me must be done.  I must sit still and watch TV and clear the planner.  That is my mission.  Granted so far I have watched the majority of it while completing the biggest cross-stitch pattern I could come across just to keep me in the seat but so far it's an achievement.

The back garden furniture is calling me on a regular basis to attack it with a hammer and screwdriver so that it can be broken down in small enough parts to be taken to the tip but so far I have avoided it.  It helps that it has rained most of the weekend to be fair.

Avoiding the visit to the GP with Beautiful B and the hair appointment that will take 4 hours today because I am greyer than any other 39 year old with thicker hair than most of the western hemisphere population, oh and the hospital visit on Wednesday to have my manky hands and arms electrocuted, I don't have much planned in the way of other activities.

So I may get the majority of it watched.  Might be worth spending the following weekend clearing the sky planner in the bedroom too so he can replace that seen as it randomly turns itself on and off - usually when I want it to record something.  Now either that is not normal or it is the electronic version of a woman with PMT.

Maintenance and the lack thereof.....

No!  Not with me, though in hindsight, I could probably do with a little more maintenance.  It helps to try and maintain the body rather than wait to win the lottery so that you can go crazy at the plastic surgeons office.

As we have had some puppy money Hubby and I - okay I - decided that we should spent it on maintaining the house.  Our house is tiny but it doesn't make it harder to ignore that we have done very little to maintain our humble abode for....well, years.  So, we I tossed a coin and decided that of the 3 main most expensive things that require doing the bathroom needed tiling above all else.  I guess when you have a chunk of money, albeit a small chunk, the most expensive things should be a priority.

Now this was a somewhat tortourous decision for me - those of you that know me well know that I LOOOOVE the sun - I would lie in it all day and bygones to the potential of skin cancer so every cell in my body was screaming "Do the back garden, do the back garden" before what summer we have (generally all 3 days of it) hits. 

For those of you who care, or are even interested, the jobs were the kitchen, back garden and the bathroom.  All in various states of disarray, tiredness and disrepair - and all require more money that I care to think about.

Now, I can be self-centred, Hubby disagrees with me here, but I disagree with him and I win every argument so.....

...... but even I have to admit seen as Hubby hates the sun and heat even more than I adore it, the person who would benefit most from the back garden make-over would be me and that would be self-centred - I can dream and be self-centred but am not good at translating that into reality. 

The kitchen is going to cost more money than the puppy fluffs were kind enough to provide us with (something to do with selling them with their injections and treatments - which cost more than the sale of a WHOLE puppy) so it left the garden and the bathroom.

The bathroom isn't big enough to swing a cat in - seriously, even by UK standards.  Some folks in the USA would wonder how we manage not to step on each other in our tiny bathroom.  It is tiled half way up the wall and the rest is paper.  Now, that was a good idea when Beautiful B was more interested in having a bath so she could pretend to be a dolphin and sing and splash to her hearts content but now she is all grown up (though still insisting she will live with us until she is 30 - yeah OK!) there are 3 of us having daily showers - not condusive to keeping the wall dry even if the paper is varnished.  So, to avoid long term structural damage as the water slowly seeps onto the wall behind the paper I opted for the bathroom makeover.

Shopping for tiles - what Hubby liked I thought were old fashioned, what I REALLY REALLY like were above our cost range - we opted for a relatively plain and simple tile and a mosaic trim - okay, I opted for it because Hubby - being that laid back he is practically horizontal said "pick what you want darling, as long as you are happy, I am happy" - I am still trying to work out if that translates to "you hate everything I pick and I can't be doing with the nagging for the next 10 years until we can afford the REALLY REALLY expensive tiles which don't look any different than the ones you have picked" - probably, bygones.

So we are in day one of tiling - Hubby sent photos of the work in progress by phone today as I he knew I would be sat here impatiently wondering - see why I am going to marry the man....Oh, and that is on the list of things to do. Hurry up Abi, grow up we need more puppies.....

Hubby is more relaxed today - he claims to hate DIY and claims even more to be rubbish at it - I think he has a mental block - it is the only thing he gets angry with.  On DIY days I avoid him like the plague.....or tell him off for sulking.

.....which takes us nicely to our latest discussion - paying a landscape gardener to transform the back garden - we know who is going to win that one, don't we?  I mean unless it is ridiculously cheap why give the landscape gardener the money when I could have nicer paving stones.....