After a day of picnickery yesterday the hammer, chisel, paint and brush have come out today.
Just couldn't help myself.
Of course everything I have started has come with the 'oh god, why have I started this....' and now I have walked away from it all leaving piles of crap in my wake. Jethro came downstairs took one look and retired to the thunderbox (last Xmas's project) outside for a snooze in the sun. So far I have ripped the torn flywire off the screen door (thank Jethro for having to start that little job), tested some paint colours on the wood of screen door (I may as well paint it while the flywire is off) and, as the paint brush had paint on it, started painting the outside of the backdoor until I got bored and washed the brush and came upstairs looking for another distraction. The problem is I am surrounded by mess and cleaning up that needs to be done and, as always, I am flummoxed as to where to start. Boxing Day's good intentions have taken to their bed with a good book and won't come when called.
I am also distracted by the idea of installing floor to ceiling shelves in the big room upstairs. As if. I have to keep talking myself out of that project. I'd probably start it in the midst of all the mess already here. I can just see myself tripping over piles of books, boxes, plates with glitter on them, half finished product brandishing the drill and a mitre saw. Perhaps I can control myself until Easter with that project.
I have managed to read two books from my holiday book stash and am onto the third. I'm tempted to hit the bookshops when I finally leave the house (and the hardware store too). It's really quite amusing I always seem to get to about thistime in December and I start planning some huge project. This is the up/down side of a blog/diary, checking back and discovering just how predictable I am. Seems the maximum number of days I can go pointlessly relaxing is really quite ridiculously low. Go on have a really good laugh at my expense, I've got painting to finish.