Oh hi blog. How are you? I'd like to say I've been off doing all manner of interesting and exciting things, but truth of the matter is I've:
- been sanding windows; and
- been avoiding sanding windows.
It's all very dull. On the plus side, my finger pads now feel rough enough to do all the sanding for me. Who needs sandpaper when the mere action of running a finger lovingly down my husband's five day old stubble causes HIM to yelp? I attempted to remedy the situation by the regular application of moisturiser. This was all going swimmingly UNTIL...I realised I'd been applying the Holiday Skin fake tan tinted moisturiser compulsively and my palms were stained a lovely shade of burnished orange. Just charming. I have now lost a further 20 layers of skin trying to re-achieve a natural color on my digits, with only slight success. I look like I've been prepped with iodine for a serious bout of hand surgery, only without the added benefit of actually getting rid of that weird lump on the back of my hand.
I have also been looking at paint samples this weekend. The Lavender Love Nest (Purple Palace?) is having a make-over this summer and it's kind of like she's entered her golden years: we're going with something sensible. We think. Shade of grey, most likely. Har har, I said, when the inevitable 50 Shades joke was made about the test patch situation out the back. It's possible I no longer have a sense of humour about it, though. I found myself squinting at the patches and at the colour swatches muttering about "blue tones" and "half Rakaia, no, quarter?" and seriously debating the merits of different shades of white for the accent. I think I need a hobby. I shall be rainbow-arraying my skeins of yarn until further notice, OK?
So, yes, home improvement proceeds slowly at the Mauve Manner. It is quite clear as I type this that I'm in a terrible mood - I tried to think of something else that stood out from the long holiday weekend and the first thing that sprang to mind was the time I busted that cat scratching up my radishes. I gave the neighbouring dogs a run for their money in the feline-terrorising stakes, I can tell you. I'm so....curmudgeonly (ish?) at the moment. I suppose that's what you get at the grand old age of one-and-thirty (!)
I'll cut my losses and end this here given how sneery I'm being - nicer, positive A next time, I promise!