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The Bedroom Incident part 1 - June 2006
Jun. 29th, 2006 12:20 amAlexander is currently doing horribly dangerous things in Wales with the school. (The sort of things no sensible mother wants to know about!) While he is away Hugh and I planned on decorating his bedroom. The room was emptied on Saturday, and the ceiling painting started on Saturday morning, and Saturday afternoon, and then Sunday morning. Okay, why he has a ceiling that absorbs paint like a SPONGE I'll never know but hey, eventually it was done. The old wallpaper was stripped off by Sunday lunchtime and painting of three other walls commenced and was finished late Sunday night. Gloss painting was also started and completed. (We are working against the clock here as the new carpet and furniture are being delivered Thursday.) So by Sunday night we were ready for wallpaper, which Hugh did while I was at work during the day on Monday. In the evening I put the first coat of paint on the wardrobe doors and have to say the whole room was taking shape.
By Tuesday evening Hugh was ready to get out the pot of thick, oily, gloopy colour-of-dark-chocolate sauce wood stain and start on the shelves. I was in the kitchen when I heard a bang, and another bang and and yet another. And then Hugh saying "Oh no. No. Oh No. NO!" Which really in the circumstances was extraordinarily restrained. I flew upstairs three at a time to a scene of total disaster.
The shelves had been leaning against the pasting table. The pasting table is not very substantial. It fell. All five shelves scraped their way down the wallpaper. The new, pristine and really quite attractive wallpaper. Which wasn't any more. In addition to the shelves, the pot of thick, oily, gloopy colour-of-dark-chocolate sauce wood stain had been sitting on the pasting table. Note the 'had been'. The pot flew through the air, delicately splattering its entire contents on, yes you've guess it, more of the new wallpaper. The thick, oily, gloopy colour-of-dark-chocolate sauce wood stain then ran down the wall and gathered in a gelatinous puddle on the floor. ( It reminded me of the thing that killed Tasha Yar in Star Trek the Next Generation but I digress.)
Anyway, we stripped off and replaced the damaged wallpaper and I didn't yell, I promise, even under these rather trying circumstances, I didn't yell. I was rather proud of myself actually. Unfortunately, once we replaced the strips of damaged wallpaper we found the previous bits had stretched and we could only hope that the replacement pieces would stretch accordingly. They did, sort of. (I'm sure Alexander won't notice and you won't tell him, right?)
So you might think, problem solved.
Cue: hysterical laughter.
Thinking that we had coped with the disaster rather well given the pressure of time and so on, we went downstairs for a well earned cup of tea. And found that the thick, oily, gloopy colour-of-dark-chocolate sauce wood stain had run under the floor boards upstairs and was now running down the lounge wall downstairs. That would be the cream coloured lounge wall right above the television and of course, right above the lovely new cream coloured rug lying on my lounge floor. That was when I yelled.
So now we need to replace the lounge wallpaper too. Also, I have to bake 6 dozen cookies for Robert's school fair tomorrow (thank you Donna in Boston for the recipe!), paint a radiator and a window sill, put a second coat on the wardrobe doors, and remove the remainder of the thick, oily, gloopy colour-of-dark-chocolate sauce wood stain from the bedroom floor before the carpet is laid. In fact I've typed this up while waiting for the paint to dry and now it's back to work!
You know what they say, the impossible I can do, miracles take a little longer!
By Tuesday evening Hugh was ready to get out the pot of thick, oily, gloopy colour-of-dark-chocolate sauce wood stain and start on the shelves. I was in the kitchen when I heard a bang, and another bang and and yet another. And then Hugh saying "Oh no. No. Oh No. NO!" Which really in the circumstances was extraordinarily restrained. I flew upstairs three at a time to a scene of total disaster.
The shelves had been leaning against the pasting table. The pasting table is not very substantial. It fell. All five shelves scraped their way down the wallpaper. The new, pristine and really quite attractive wallpaper. Which wasn't any more. In addition to the shelves, the pot of thick, oily, gloopy colour-of-dark-chocolate sauce wood stain had been sitting on the pasting table. Note the 'had been'. The pot flew through the air, delicately splattering its entire contents on, yes you've guess it, more of the new wallpaper. The thick, oily, gloopy colour-of-dark-chocolate sauce wood stain then ran down the wall and gathered in a gelatinous puddle on the floor. ( It reminded me of the thing that killed Tasha Yar in Star Trek the Next Generation but I digress.)
Anyway, we stripped off and replaced the damaged wallpaper and I didn't yell, I promise, even under these rather trying circumstances, I didn't yell. I was rather proud of myself actually. Unfortunately, once we replaced the strips of damaged wallpaper we found the previous bits had stretched and we could only hope that the replacement pieces would stretch accordingly. They did, sort of. (I'm sure Alexander won't notice and you won't tell him, right?)
So you might think, problem solved.
Cue: hysterical laughter.
Thinking that we had coped with the disaster rather well given the pressure of time and so on, we went downstairs for a well earned cup of tea. And found that the thick, oily, gloopy colour-of-dark-chocolate sauce wood stain had run under the floor boards upstairs and was now running down the lounge wall downstairs. That would be the cream coloured lounge wall right above the television and of course, right above the lovely new cream coloured rug lying on my lounge floor. That was when I yelled.
So now we need to replace the lounge wallpaper too. Also, I have to bake 6 dozen cookies for Robert's school fair tomorrow (thank you Donna in Boston for the recipe!), paint a radiator and a window sill, put a second coat on the wardrobe doors, and remove the remainder of the thick, oily, gloopy colour-of-dark-chocolate sauce wood stain from the bedroom floor before the carpet is laid. In fact I've typed this up while waiting for the paint to dry and now it's back to work!
You know what they say, the impossible I can do, miracles take a little longer!
