Enter the Gorgon

It was with great sadness that I said farewell to my oldest son as he recently moved out to live with his girlfriend/fiancée. Friends consoled me by stating that he’ll be back and actually the family will get bigger not smaller when they return with gobs of squabs of their own. That may be so but right now we are a man down. My sons and I like the same music, same TV shows and have a similar sense of humour. Neymar Jrs. Back, we sometimes even play in the same five-a-side team (I get the feeling I’m picked to make up the numbers. I’m only told there‘s a game on at the last minute).

So he’s gone and there’s space. Space. There’s a spare room. Continue reading “Enter the Gorgon”

Dollops and blobs

How do you tell when your paint tray is overfilled?

When it washes over the edge like a tidal wave all down your front, that’s when.

I discovered this morning that I have lost my decorating mojo.   Not only did I fail to manage my paint tray correctly but my roller wouldn’t roll. It just kind of stuck so great floppily globs of emulsion dripped from it when I applied it to the ceiling in time-honoured fashion.

I was ok with the rubbing down. I mean, what can you get wrong with sandpaper, apart from sandpapering the tips off your newly bought decorating gloves? Fingerless mitts might have been ok in Dickens’ day but quite frankly, they are just further crevices into which emulsion paint can seep.
Continue reading “Dollops and blobs”