Labour One: Slay the bedroom and give it a lick of paint
I am so sore.
This weekend I have cleared out everything from my bedroom other than my bed, hoovered in every corner, sanded, masked up, painted, rollered, hoovered again, ad infinitum.
The worst bit about it was my dodgy stepladder. My feet and legs ache from using it. I rescued it from a skip years ago and it's slightly bent and requires stabilising so it doesn't collapse underneath you while you're on it with a full tub of paint. So the leg and foot aches are from me balancing on it as if it is some sort of tightrope. But I didn't fall, and when I absent-mindedly checked the price of stepladders the other day, it seems the skip rescue was worth it.
I even finally sorted the window. Ever since I moved in, over two years ago, there has been a piece of perspex fixed over the top segment of the window. Ordinarily, the top segment would function well by itself, made up as it is of three panes of glass that swivel on hinges - great for airless London flats when you want to leave a window open during the day without inviting every burglar in the neighbourhood.
However, one of the panes of glass and long since broken or disappeared, so the previous owners had fixed some perspex over it. Fine in the winter to keep the draughts out, and easily removable once it got warm.
But I've been meaning to get it replaced and finally i did something about it. I removed one of the other remaining panes and marched down the road. Handily I have a glaziers just 500 yards away. It took them 15 minutes to cut and round off a piece of glass to fit and cost me five pounds. All of which begs the question as to why I have not done it before now.
So, a whole two days and three coats of paint later I'm only nearly done. I've still got the woodwork to go.
But for now, I've eased my aching muscles into a hot bath and I'm off to bed.
The other bed in the non-fumey spare room.