Far from being totally inept at DIY, there are now two stud wall frames proudly in place downstairs now, seperating out the new downstairs kitchen and the bathroom from a newly crafted entrance way. We even found a bargain at the local DIY place in a new sink and pedestal for less than half the usual cheapest price and as a brucey bonus good soft wood at bargain sale prices. And while the latter are now cut up in a nice and orderly sized pieces which have since been hammered into the walls, the new bargain kitchen ceremics are quietly sitting in one corner of the debris strewn room hoping in their little brown boxes that some random wreaked rubble won't damage them.

So after three days of solid graft, I now ache in places I never knew were possible. Slamming my body into sides whilst nailing and screwing large rough bits of wood into the wall, swinging rather large mallets to set pieces flush to the wall and playing with some rather large man sized power tools that needed some umph put into them.

Mmmmm - powertools!

I now understand some of the satisfaction that Girlpants gets from routers, drills and pneumatic nail guns, whilst striding around wearing big leather toolbelts. The power, the adrenaline rush and the mere satisfaction of doing something manual which actually stood up after 20 minutes of being fixed. The heart ache and desperation of mis-measuring and cutting new wood a full 10cm's under length, of 3 inch nails not gripping properly and of random holes that suddenly appeared in plasterboard as wood was gently knocked into place. With so much passion, our Herculean efforts could have surely given Olympic gold a run for it's money,

whilst dressed in blue plaid.

So Brian won. Whopp de doo. It went downhill for me when the Greek guy, Gerry left. For some reason, I warmed to the little gallery geek on many levels, similar to the way I warmed to Jonty & Lesley.

But now I'm BB-less. I feel the withdrawals kicking in already and the cold turkey's moving in. What is it about reality tv that reels me in so quickly? Maybe it's like Jerry Springer where it all seems liuke a set up but makes you realise that the things you take for granted actually proves that things aren't as bad as you feel. Smug sofa superiority so to speak. Girlpants has seen and recognised that I have an addictive personality and will probably end up with the shakes, so has come up with a cunning plan to relieve the pangs. He's going to DIY my boredom.

Has anyone built a partition wall from scratch? Plastered? Ensured the wall was straight and plaster ended with a clean and level finish? Not me. But that is my new task. And I'm too scared to offer to paint the bathroom as Girlpants always goes over my efforts as I can never paint in the right direction and leave paint brush hairs in my wake, which he always picks up with his critical eye. So whats a girl to do whilst things are slowly re-assesssed? I suppose I could try plastering on the kitchen side as we're only going to tile it, so that won't be all that bad. But putting up an entirely new wall and keeping it straight? I sense that I'll be wearing the goober hat before the end of the day

In Sim's ideas of grandeur and with the move of the galley kitchen down to ye olde granny flat bedroom, she decided that a slate floor would be in keeping with the home for the age and Brucey bonus, would give the wow factor - a plus especially in light of Girlpants already talking about the next house. And in her ideas of granduer, Sim always looks for the "look". And didn't in this case necessarily look at the cost.

This was however, something she slowly realised and came to grips with. After a week or so of shopping around, she firmly decided that the money being quoted was all too much. £45 per m², £33 per m², £59 per m²... And at 30m² needing to be floored, she decided to shop around.

So Sim promptly went to ebay and found the slate she like, without seeing it in the "slate" so to speak. She mulled the idea over 12 plus hours around whilst moving wardrobes and big f*** off plants home in one free van trip, and thought about the ebay auction again. And once home and cream crackered, promptly went to the wrong auction, the wrong slate and the wrong m² by the same seller. And won.

Bugger!
Goober!!
Shoot me now.

Girlpants & I needed a quick snack tonight before the dreaded double glazing salesman arrived as we knew he wouldn't leave for an age

And it doesn't take a rocket scientist to guess which one was mine...

After a weary day at work, Girlpants offered to pick his wifey up from town and drive her home. Which worked rather well for me as I've managed to strain the tendons in both feet again - a reoccurring injury since bouncing up and down to music in a random Cornish field in Doc Martins.

However I knew the lift would come with a sting and for me, it was to pick up a new toy for him. For he had spotted an industrial fan capable of gale force winds which would mean he would be able to waft the wonderful aromas that he planned to conjure from his brand spanking new, size of a small football pitch BBQ. And I had to trapse across town to pick one up.

Girlpants loves his gadgets. There's nothing like opening up a new box and putting a new shiny gadget toy together. Needless to say, there's always a screw or bolt missing but then he bimbles down to his workshop and delves into trays and trays of ikea flat pack cast-offs. But gadgets come in boxes - and boxes also interest the cats and as we had churlishly not unpacked all of the boxes around them, our two furballs were loving the packaging carnage that Girlpants had strewn around him. And whilst jumping in and out of the box, they ignored the fact that Girlpants had returned and was about to switch the new fan on. Full blast. As they ran straight infront it.

Whilst Custard cat with her slight frame quickly got the message and hid under the sofa as the wind was back combing her hair, Rhubarb's weight kept her pinned to the ground whilst she attempted to walk forward, blinking rather rapidly in the wind. And whilst I had never seen a cat moonwook before tonight, the fat cat did me proud.
And the moonwalk looks far far superior with four paws.

Three years ago, I was waiting for a car to turn up outside of my parents, staring at the sky wondering if the rain was going to stop at any given point.

Three months ago, I was insecure in my new job so Girlpants took me out for dinner to celebrate and up the confidence.

Three days ago, in wild panic, I went out to buy a very special card with lovely golden pattern on the top.

Three hours ago, I gave Girlpants the very special card.

Three minutes ago, he pointed out that the lovely golden pattern on the very special card wasn't really a nice pattern as I had first believed whilst quickly perusing in a rush. It was a lovely golden flowerly script which you can only read at a certain angle. A golden flowerly script that said "To my wife on our anniversary"
Opps! Well...the thought was there I suppose.

Happy anniversary Girlpants.
Mwah!