Today, I’m reliably informed, will be the last day for the horrid carpet and hideous curtains in the living room, so the bulk of the furniture has been removed to the upper floor, with the remainder heaped up, ready to be inched into the middle of the room and dust-sheeted classic decorator style. Tomorrow we go and buy paint.
The project is moving steadily to a close; Graham has set Christmas as his deadline, and has already decided where the Christmas tree will go.
Last sight of the horrid carpet
The clear glass fixed window is all done and dusted, much to my relief, and Dolly’s. When the original was removed the reason for it being there was made evident by the first blast of wintry wind. And it lets the light into the hallway, too, which is good. The door itself is ready to be installed, but sits safely in the garage until the floor is done.
Dolly was sternly forgiving of the activity, mainly because we’ve made her a nice cosy nest in a corner of the study. Until the carpet is actually gone, however, she’s sticking to it like a big furry tube of glue. You’d be surprised how immoveable Dolly can be when she’s of a mind.
I shall not be moved
And so, after slightly over a year of ghastly horridity, that cursed carpet will be sliced up and taken down to the dump at last. Good riddance, says I. Dolly, contrary to all appearances, will be heartily pleased to welcome the new cork floor in a few days time. She’d never admit it, of course. Cats don’t do that.
