Before I go any further, I must apologise for not responding to the comments on my last post. It was particularly remiss of me because a few people were intrigued by Harry's being out trampolining. He started way back in school. I don't remember at what point he became a qualified coach; he set up his own club in the late 70s and has been coaching in his so-called spare time ever since. Abby asked whether I ever went with him, which I did a few times early on. I learned all the basic stuff but when he said it was time for me to have a go at a somersault I was a scaredy cat and cried off. When gentle persuasion didn't work he lost patience and said I must either try or get off his trampoline. So I got off his trampoline and that was that! He was out again Wednesday night but, although he still has all the moves, his body is telling him it's time to stop and in a week's time he will shut up shop.
Back in the present, I recently went away on a fun-filled holiday with a bunch of girlfriends, leaving Harry and Bob, a builder friend, to kick-start the renovations to our kitchen. It is a big job, everything had to be stripped out; only the ceiling remained intact. The units had been in storage for some time as we'd been so busy and, in the meantime, I had changed my mind about a couple of things in the design. Harry and I went over the revised plan that, basically, entailed buying a new fridge/freezer and an extra length of worktop. The first hint of trouble came when Harry FaceTimed me from a builders' merchant, holding up a length of worktop that bore no resemblance to the one we had bought. He had taken a dislike to the original type and wanted to buy a different one, on which he wanted my opinion. He had three lengths already loaded for the checkout but, as my friends commented, at least he checked in with me first. There were a number of things he didn't check with me, not least that the new fridge/freezer he bought is about fifteen inches taller than the old freezer, leaving no room for the bridging cabinet that was supposed to go above it. There were several compromises to be made on my return, which mostly amounted to sucking up the changes because what was done was done. I'm glad to report that I managed to accept it all with good grace and no bottom-warming was involved in the process. There was the traditional homecoming reconnection but that was for fun, except for the part where Harry tried out a newly acquired kitchen utensil. Ouch!
My angelic disposition lasted only until three days later, when we went back to the builders' merchant for paint and tiles. I got distracted by a display of outdoor paint that I wanted for refurbishing our garden arbour and got into trouble for not listening to what Harry said to me. Worse was to come at our next stop, a furniture showroom, where Harry wanted to look for a new dining table and chairs. I wanted to wait until I had decorated the dining room, my next project but one, but that idea was met with a very firm "No." I let my displeasure show with a couple of snarky remarks and Harry warned that I was sailing close to the wind, giving me a hard swat for good measure. There was no-one else around and I hoped there were no security cameras in operation! The new furniture arrives next week.
The rest of the shopping trip passed uneventfully but in the evening, as Harry handed me a glass of Champagne, he told me to note its colour. It was pink, a rather dark shade of pink, and I knew my bottom would be stinging before bedtime.
Now that we are both back at work the renovation is proceeding more slowly, but we are getting there. I'm aiming to catch up with some blog reading this weekend; I've missed my Blogland friends during the last couple of weeks.
I also need to catch up on three episodes of Poldark before Sunday evening. Last night I watched the very first episode of Outlander, which has at last come to non-subscription TV in the UK.
If only there were more than 24 hours in a day!
Rosie
