Z works jolly hard

It took seven hours of painting, not counting a short lunch break.  Weeza emailed at ten to eight in the morning to say she was leaving and would take it steadily, as it was frosty and she has a few miles of back roads before she’s on one that would have been gritted.  We had time for breakfast and to take down the curtains and clear most of the last bits and pieces, and fetch dust sheets before she arrived (as well as feeding animals as usual).  And we cracked on and it went really well.  We started with edges and then I carried on with them, and window surrounds and so on, while Weeza wielded the roller on the ceiling and walls.  We’d got all the first coat on by lunchtime, ate it speedily, exclaiming over the deliciousness of jalapeño relish and damson chutney and cracked on again.  LT kept us supplied with food and drink.  We knew that it would get dark relatively early, so couldn’t afford to hang about.  And we were finished with the painting by about ten past four, and very pleased with it.  I was shining a lamp around as she finished the ceiling, to make sure there weren’t any bits of the second coat that she’d missed.

It’s just a soft cream colour  (Little Greene, White Lead Mid, if anyone is interested) and rather paler than the previous colour and we are very happy with it.  Weeza had recommended the brand as she said it’s lovely to use, doesn’t spatter and covers well.  She doesn’t recommend F&Bll which, she says, is a beast to apply, however fashionable and expensive it may be.  Certainly, there was no spatter at all.  We didn’t have to take particular care of the carpet, as it’s being replaced, but all the same, one doesn’t want a mess to tread in.

Today, we’ve rehung the curtains and the pictures.  We took the opportunity to change things around a bit – I’ve got three nice oil paintings that wanted a home and we replaced two paintings of flowers and added the third, several others have been replaced and another one has been brought in from the hall, where it was partly behind a door, when it was opened against the wall.  There’s just one more, which had been reframed four years ago and never hung, and I have to find the rings and copper wire that is in a box and carefully put in a safe place.  Sigh.

Then I took loose covers off and washed them, and hoovered, and LT brought in logs and all is lovely and clean and tidy – mostly tidy because we can’t bring the furniture back yet, until the carpet has been replaced in a couple of weeks.  So the hall and dining room are a bit cluttered.

And I had slept soundly from half past ten until half past four, which is jolly good for me.

The rat traps I ordered arrived yesterday, so I’ve set them all this afternoon.  I don’t like doing it, but I’ve had enough.  They must be too big for the cats to tackle – not that Eloise cat would go anywhere near a rat.  RasPutin, the father cat, had been very thin a couple of months ago and I was worried about him, but he’s got quite fat on my good food.  Not on rats, unfortunately.

4 comments on “Z works jolly hard

  1. 63mago

    My arms hurt from reading.
    I only hope that the traps will work. Not all barn cats can really get to grips with organised rats. They need to be fought, in a sense it is warfare.

  2. Z Post author

    I’d washed the walls and got ready in advance, I knew we’d be pushed for time on the day. A few running repairs, but not too much.

    No rats caught yet, Mago. The cats can’t tackle full grown rats, they aren’t tough enough. They caught young ones back in the summer. I need a very feisty terrier.

    1. Chairwoman Ros

      Otis is a demon with rats. Unfortunately he sometimes brings me one that isn’t quite dead, and then I have to scream for assistance.
      It’s a shame having a champion ratter who brings them in from the garden. My Scottie was brilliant. He was given to us a long time ago by Stevie Marriot from the Small Faces. I think Jock was glad to come home with us. Stevie lived in the country and had about 11 dogs with Jock being the smallest and Bonze, the largest, a gentle Irish Wolfhound. Poor Jock was the odd pup out. At our house he was one of three dogs and four cats. They all got on very well.


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