I’ve the first few days on the building site already under my belt and I have to admit that it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. First of all, the Oldies thankfully don’t expect me to get my wings dirty. I am only here to keep them company, it seems. Fine by me!
Secondly, the house itself is quite fascinating. It is about 150 to 200 years old, has three storeys over a cellar and is situated on a corner of a square in a small country town. I’m not sure that I’d like to live in it myself, but it certainly has some interesting features. Take this metal ring on the wall in the kitchen. Apparently, there used to be a sink in a cupboard next to it. The Oldies have since removed the cupboard to make space for the central heating boiler, but I can imagine that in days of yore the woman of the house might have been tied to the kitchen sink – literally.

The boiler is new (the old one was an antiquated affair down in the cellar), but the radiators are still the original cast iron ones. They work a treat and heat the house extremely efficiently, but some previous occupants took it into their heads to paint them orange and violet. Her Ladyship has been whinging for days because the job of repainting them all has fallen to her. Nasty job. I don’t envy her.

I particularly like the radiator in the kitchen, with the little cubby hole inside it. Great for warmingshoes! His Lordship also used it as a plate warmer when he last stayed here.

        

The top floor has some lovely beams, but they are rather on the low side. Her Ladyship can easily walk under them without having to stoop down, but His Lordship is in serious danger of decapitating himself if he’s not careful.

Finally, the best thing about this house renovating carry-on is the entertainment value. Watching the dynamic duo at work is proving to be great fun. It’s better than watching telly! I keep myself occupied for hours by making bets with myself on which one of them will curse the most. With them dropping tools, miscutting wood, almost falling off ladders, getting cobwebs in the paint and other such shenanigans, there is certainly plenty of cursing going on. Hilarious!

It’s also fascinating to watch how each of them goes about their work. Himself is conscientious, precise and meticulous. Herself is all hammer and tongs, speedy and boy, is she messy! After three days of painting, His Lordship had a total of seven spots of paint on his shorts and T-shirt. Herself looked like she had bathed in the stuff. It was everywhere: all over her clothes of course, but also in her hair, on her ears, her nose, from the tips of her fingers to past her elbows. I don’t know how she does it. The walls she’s painted look ok, mind you, but she’s a sight. I hope she’s never allowed paint a ceiling!

I’m in a huff with His Lordship.

On the way home from the building site the other day, we called in to see my owners’ six-year-old nephew. Her Ladyship had managed to remove most of the white paint from her person, but she was still wearing her working clothes. The sweet, innocent little boy took one look at her paint splattered trousers and asked, ‘Did the pigeons do that to you?’ Before she could reply, His Lordship piped up: ‘No, a seagull’.
Smartass!