The other day I was reading a report, either on the BBC website or in The Daily Telegraph, which related that scientists studying men had found that we generally get more frustrated by repetitive and tedious tasks than women. Having spent a few weeks now forcing myself to get lots of bunkers ready, and having found the experience fairly tiresome, I could well relate to it. Having said that, there is something greatly cheering at beholding the physical fruits of one's labours. I am a few days from that as far as the bunkers go, but lately I have also been engaged in a spot of house-painting. Ceiling, coving, walls and wainscot have had their due. In a few hours, once yesterday's undercoat is thoroughly dry, I'm going to apply the gloss to the last of the woodwork.
Despite being cheered by a job well done, if I may toot my own trumpet, it's also a bit dispiriting to think how much of the house could still do with a coat of paint. Rather, it's daunting to think how much remains to do. However, with the weather turning to the traditional English cold and damp, anything remaining will have to wait until next year at the earliest. I'm doing what I can with the back stairs, although to do a good job I really need to be about nine or ten feet tall. Last time I checked, I wasn't, and my failure to bang my head on the ceilings suggests that continues to be the case. In short, I may well miss a few spots. Even if I manage to avoid missing a few spots, there will doubtless be a few inadvertent splashes onto the stairs or some adjacent woodwork.
That shan't put me off, though. It needs doing, and I know how to do it. It'll soon be out of the way, and I'll feel I've accomplished something. Other things in life can be more confusing. If years ago Dad hadn't told me about the difference between gloss paints and emulsion, there'd have been a lot more dead crushes hereabouts before I figured it out on my own. There's a lesson: I would still have figured out through trial and error. Unless, of course, I never bothered painting anything, and just let the house fall gradually into disrepair. It's an easy thing to do, to let one's home or body or life come apart. Sometimes we need a poke to get things together. I know I do.
Keep your eyes peeled for those bunkers, folks. They will definitely start appearing within the next seven days. Unless someone eats them or velociraptors cut me off from them. Barring that, they should soon be on Ebay. Be well, folks.