Finally, the painting begins. All that must be stripped has been stripped; all that must be plastered and sanded has been plastered and sanded; all that must be filled with anti-meteorite emergency sealant has been filled with anti-meteorite emergency sealant. Nothing now stands in our way.
Houses are very robust systems. If we applied our brand of cheerful make-it-up-as-you-go-along optimistic common-sense workmanship to, say, a computer network or to brain surgery then there would be all sorts of trouble. But houses are built to last. Just do it, they say with a stoic sigh. Go on. We can take it. And they do.
This house is looking forward to becoming a family home. I feels it in me watter. An added bonus is that, by tracing this feeling, I can finally work out where me watter is located. It's bothered me for years.
I see you are taking the 'edges last' approach to painting. I am not allowed to do this: my mother and Miles both swear by the 'edges first' approach, also known as 'cutting in'. Three months after starting, you finally get to paint the big bits. And don't even get me started on glossing etiquette. I like the terracotta btw.
ReplyDeleteSo if Miles is eating a nice chunky bit of Christmas cake, does he carefully nibble off the icing around the edge before taking a satisfying bite out of the fruity bit in the middle, or vice versa, leaving the icing to last?
ReplyDeleteProbably the same principle.