So the weekend renovating was a teensy bit disheartening. Thursday is the big day for having carpet installed downstairs, so we are having our own Olympic finals race to the finish getting everything painted in time. The Man and I were contemplating the filthy concrete floor just inside our downstairs door, and thought a few tiles just in front of the door would be a good idea, to save the carpet. We already had the tiles, leftover from the bathroom, so easy peasy, right? Wrong.
First of all we discovered that the concrete floor we had expensively installed last year wasn't level. Because why would a builder feel that we wanted a level floor? Clearly we have unreasonable expectations. But all was not lost. There was some self-levelling cement in the shed, so The Man laid that on Saturday morning, then madly painted doors all day. Sunday morning he discovered that the cement was too old, and hadn't set so much as crumbled. Very bad moment.
A bad-tempered trip to the hardware store later, and we now have cement that is set, and a floor that is straight, which means, it is Monday afternoon, and we are in exactly the same place we though we were in on Friday night. Such is the life of the home renovator. In the meantime, The Man had rolled a fresh coat of paint onto the built-in bench seat along the length of the family room wall. I noted how divine it was looking as I sat on it in my new jeans....
It was one of those days. Luckily turps removes freshly applied enamel paint from jeans. Now I know.
Beyond the grave and beyond time.
1 day ago