Tuesday evenings are brass band practise. 2 hours, sometimes with a break for tea and cakes, if it's been someone's birthday. Our conductor, Graham, often gives what he calls "notices" between songs - upcoming dates, information, etc. Tonight, he told us that we needed a new band photo. Everyone groaned. Last time we did two photos, one in our full suit and bow tie uniform and one in the more casual polo shirts. It was a bit chaotic, everyone trying to change in the two small bathrooms in the practise hall. "No - no," Graham said, "Just polo shirts this year!" A shocked pause, broken by Jo - "gosh I'm glad I'm at the back!" and the whole room dissolved into laughter.
Better get out of the field, Mabel
We're going against the grain
Tuesday 5 March 2024
Sunday 25 February 2024
Sunday afternoon
It's Sunday afternoon - it's 530 and it is not all the way dark which feels like real progress until you remember that it is still February and nowhere near spring, yet. But I picked loads of bright sunny daffoldils in Pauline's garden this morning, and I've planted chilli seeds this afternoon, so there's lots to look forward to.
I should be knitting. I have a test knitting project that is due next Monday which means I have to post it on Saturday which means technically I should have knit it by then, you know, in an ideal world. Maybe not this world which is full of so many other more interesting things.
Yesterday, as we stepped out of the house, our neighbour was walking by and said, "Hey - I have to take the boat out to the end of the creek and back to run the motor - do you want to come along for the ride?" I have a life rule: whenever possible, say yes to being on or in the sea. We agreed in a gleeful heartbeat and it was amazing. It started out sunny and then the clouds rolled in and we were very cold and fairly damp by the end of it and it was worth every shiver.
Friday 24 November 2023
and so it begins...
It was the first brass band Christmas carolling gig tonight. You could tell because the temperature has been unseasonably warm until this morning when it checked its calendar and promptly fell 10 degrees and kicked in with an eye-wateringly vicious north easterly wind for good measure.
it was COLD.
But - I love this, despite the discomfort. People are happy (er). That's nice. And the music is really beautiful. Those carols. Those harmonies. Some of these songs are OLD old. even some of the newer ones are crunchy and beautiful. Have yourself a merry little Christmas. The minor-major modulation at the end of Coventry Carol. And the little kid, who shouted "Not likely!" when our conductor, Graham said that perhaps Santa will visit their house soon.
We are well - settling into the house and figuring out how it all works and what goes where. The alcove bookshelves are up and I'm really happy with them. They're made of scaffolding boards and cast iron brackets and I think you would never know that this is hands down the cheapest way to shelve anything!
Friday 15 September 2023
mini-update
I am sitting in our house on a sofa for the first time in over two weeks and oh - does it ever feel good!
SOFAS FOR THE WIN!!!!!!!!!
that is all.
More soon promise x
PS all good, just chaotic and busy xxxxxx
Tuesday 29 August 2023
turning a corner
It was a good day today. I thought it was going to be (that often - but not always - helps). Roger the carpet man (his name not an instruction - but hey whatever floats your boat) came at 8 to fit the carpets in the 2nd bedroom, the stair runner, the cellar stairs and the cellar. And lo did the heavens open and glorious light shone around and there was a parking space right outside the house which never happens. And the carpets look great and my stair runner is the bees knees so phew.
We stopped in one of the charity shops in town that often has furniture and saw, in the back, a really good sideboard/dresser type thing which we really need as we have a lot more kitchen than kitchen. We snapped it up and that solves another big problem.
Our friend Kerry did the first moving load for us in her camper van and now there is stuff - our stuff in the house - our house!
And I did the first coat of wax oil on the ground floors which took forever but was veeeeeeery satisfying indeed.
Today, for the first time, I actually felt the excitement that everyone jeeps asking me about. "OOOh isn't it exciting?" they ask, or "aren't you excited?" and I think - well no. Scared, most definitely. Bored (pulling nails, anyone?) often. Exhausted? Always. But today - I was excited.
Good thing too because I have a huge blister on the palm of my hand, what I think might be bursitis in both my index finger knuckles, and although I can be down, or up - the in-between bit is getting very difficult indeed.
Also exactly 1 week left.
gulp.
Friday 25 August 2023
Buy a house, they said. It will be fun, they said
Well. It turns out getting the nails out of floorboards is the easy part.
Sanding them is no fun at all no no no not even a little bit. And it has not gone smoothly (see what I did there?!)
We've had to get a young whippersnapper in to help us as it is just too much. And then to top it all off the bloody sanders keep breaking! Nothing more can really be done until the sanding is done as it looks like the Sahara in there.
ARGHHHH
"It's just a floor" I keep telling myself.
It's just a floor.
(2 floors are done and they look lovely. The dining room, however, is not going down without a fight)
And I've had to spend £100 on floor wax oil. £100!!!!!!!!!!! What's in it, the wisdom of the ages? Gold flakes? 2.5 litres of holy water?
Not like I'll ever find out at this rate.
Wednesday 16 August 2023
Sisyphean
If you buy a Victorian workers cottage in the UK, and if you are reasonably lucky, chances are that buried underneath the "progress" of linoleum and laminate and hardboard and carpet you will have fairly decent floorboards. Usually pine, but maybe oak if it was a posher house.
We have been lucky. 3 of the 4 rooms in our new house have pine floorboards, in - salvageable - reasonable - condition.
Whoo hoo we thought. Quids in. Hurrah.
But wait.
The boards must be sanded. And to sand them, every nail must be either removed or pounded down so it won't catch. Looks easy from standing height, but you get down on your knees with your eyes on the floor (where - spoiler alert - you will be for what seems like the rest of your life) - and you will see that these boards are infested - positively lousy - with nails. Some small, some large. Some bent over and hammered in, some so rusted when you try to pry them out the head just pops off and you have to pound them in instead.
You will go over the boards and pick out every crappy bit of metal. Then you will look again and see six more, laughing at you. You will do those. Then you will decide to be systematic and go through board by board and you will find so many more you wonder if perhaps you must have some sort of sight deficiency that is hampering your efforts. That's got to be it, you think, trying to stand up - stumbling on your numb and aching legs, and hearing the distinctive rip of denim on yet another bloody nail.
I have visions of previous inhabitants. "Oh I say, Elspeth, it is a quiet evening. Why don't we pound a few more upholstery tacks into the floorboards?" "Oh John, you are terrible you are! Oh you hound - well go on then - pass me the hammer!"
Sunday 13 August 2023
oh hi!
Just popping in quickly to say it's going well but it's very very busy! If we're not sanding it or painting it, we're ripping nails out of it or scraping paint off of it. Kitchen worktops arrive Tuesday, and the floor sander on Friday (we're going to attempt to sand the boards in three rooms - wish us luck). Juggling all this with work is as fun as it sounds, but it's all good so far :)
Here's some pics:
Wednesday 26 July 2023
I'm actually quite enjoying this. Or at least, I'm finding it interesting. It's another puzzle, really. It's very hard work though.
The kitchen is half gone -