The tennis is on in the background and I can't bring myself to watch. Not yet. The blood pressure may soar out of control. Why, yes, I do tend to get over involved in the action. You should see me at a rugby match.
And there I was, dreaming of being elegant and refined.
Mary-Lou, in answer to your question, the flowers at the door are nemesia. I had a packet of seeds and sprinkled them into a couple of trays and then read the back of the packet. 750 seeds. Oops. There is now a profusion of the same flower all over the village. I gave so many away. I need to read the instructions next time. I always did like over stuffed gardens, but this was beyond ridiculous. I love nemesia. Just love them.
The skirting boards are done. The shelf is done. The shelves are done. The books are back on the shelves. The floor is washed. The light???? Hmmm.
My friend took down the old one and connected the new one. Nothing. So we checked it.And the new bulbs. No problem. The problem is that the connection is a junction for 3 lights in 2 rooms and now, after 3 hours of not giving in and hurling the new light across the kitchen, we surrendered and left the hole in the roof. Everyone should have a hole in the roof with wires dangling. It is my new decorating style.
Either all three lights came on - eureka! But they will not switch off. Or the new light comes on and the other 2 won't work. Or a variation of the lot. I have another friend coming today to see if he can work it out, and if not, I will call an electrician when I am ready, because then he can move the light to the middle of the room where I want it to be. Once I have constructed the new bench and corner seats. We. Someone.
There was much scratching of the heads going on.
I didn't mind that the switch on the electricity breaker board for lights in the house stayed off. The only time I ever use the main lights is in the bathroom, but a bath by candlelight was perfect after a very long day of washing the hands, painting the corners, and mopping the brow. And making coffee.
This is turning into another rambling post, I am afraid. Half an ear is tuned to the tennis score, and I only dare to go to make coffee when I know Federer is doing better than Andy. I can tell from the crowds. They just roared. That means Andy is doing well. A muted roar means Federer is doing well. Hmmm. This could be a very long afternoon, and the sky has changed from blue to black.
I hear the words "drama" and "tension" from the TV. This is not good. I checked the score. Not good. Come on, Roger! Andy is about to win the first set. Correction. He has.
I need to go and do something. Anything to distract me. Maybe I can paint a door. Back later, people.....