So 8 o'clock this morning, me and himself were pounding the aisles of a well-known DIY shop - the one that sounds a bit like barbecue. Himself Andy wanted to get another fence post for which to train his grapevine (it's like dog training but way more complicated. And fruity) because the grapevine has suddenly decided, aged 4, that it is going to take over the garden, Triffid-style, and is currently smothering the honeysuckle and clawing its way into the willow arch. It is going WILD! Like a wild thing. Extra support was needed.
And I was looking for suitable paint (not grey) with which to upcycle/ revamp/ tartify two garden chairs and my Gran's old sewing table. And some wood treatment varnishy-type stuff to treat our new set of garden furniture.
Anyway, I found paint for the garden chairs.
'What do you think?' said I to Andy, waving my chosen colour at him.
'Pale green,' he said. And then he laughed. 'You always choose that colour,' he said, and cited our kitchen walls, hall and landing walls, bedroom carpet and new kettle as evidence.
And I, affronted by this assumption because there is a considerable amount of pink, lavender, yellow and blue in our house too , said, 'Shut yer face,' and sent him off to find his grape-training pole.
And then I swapped the pale green paint for a vibrant blue paint and didn't tell him. And because I was in a sulk, I did not choose the paint for my Gran's sewing table, prefering to leave it for another day when I was calm and in the correct upcycle zone.(But when I do choose it, it won't be grey.)
This afternoon we had a surveyor come a-visiting because we are having some windows replaced and also, at last, our front door. I think it is fair to say I have loathed our front door pretty much ever since we moved to this house. In fact, I am surprised the door hasn't melted with the looks of loathing I have shot it every day for the last almost 11 years.
Anyway, its days are numbered and it is going to be replaced by a lovely shiny new one with chrome fittings. It is going to be duck-egg blue. Or, as Andy says, 'Pale Green.' When clearly it is NOT pale green but duck-egg blue.
The surveyor did all his measuring. He did a bit of tutting, a bit of 'Uh-hu'-ing, muttered about how shoddy the installation of the current windows was, and then proclaimed our front door to be 'very tall.' I have to say I have never noticed the tallness of our front door, but neither have I ever banged my head on the lintel so it must be true.
Anyway, the surveyor chap parked himself at our kitchen table to draw his windows 'n' door plans. I hovered around and answered his occasional questions about window handles, frosted glass, letterboxes etc. And then he consulted our order form and the composite door brochure. And I swear he frowned a bit and did a bit of a hard stare and then he said, 'So you want your door to be THAT colour, do you?'
'Duck-egg blue?' I said. 'Yes. That's right. Duck-egg blue.'
'Riiiiight...' said the surveyor. 'And with THAT glass, yes?'
I nodded. 'Yes, that's right. That colour with that glass.'
'Okay,' said the surveyor. 'Just checking,' and he continued onwards with his methodical plan drawing.
Well! What was all THAT about? What was wrong with my choice? It's a lovely colour. It will make me smile every time I look at it.
Anyway, I am not to be dissuaded. In 9 days' time we shall have new non-rattly, non-drafty-wafty windows and a lovely new DUCK-EGG BLUE front door with chrome fittings which I shall adore (no pun intended.)
And two bright blue chairs in the garden!