Tuesday, 3 February 2015

White shed dread

I began this year with a short list of limited personal objectives which I thought it only proper to briefly report back on.

Top of the list was to get VANBAR associates firing and progress continues to be made.  More on that another time.

I pledged to get fit through the medium of spin class which, surprisingly, I have stuck to.  However, I was due to go to one tonight - until I hurt my calf muscle walking to Charlotte's swimming lesson.  Really.  Age is such a terrible thing.  I might do some sit-ups before bedtime instead (although I fear I'll put my back out).

I pledged to stay off drink until 24 January.  I missed my target by a mere 15 days.   I got bored.  Plus, I find it really hard to cook anything remotely interesting without a little glass of wine to fuel my effort.  And I was hungry.  That said, school night snifters have been pretty much off the (drinks) menu and will generally remain so.  (Unless I get hungry again.  Or thirsty).

I promised to swear more, and that hadn't been going well until this afternoon when I caught a strange woman chucking bags of rubbish over a fence near our house and shared my observations.   Good for the soul.

But I'll leave you on a real high: our garden shed roof (do you see what I did there?).  I declared that repairing our garden shed roof was a top priority, although I had no expectation of actually being able to pull it off.

Actually, I'll rephrase that.  A storm pulled it off (the roofing felt, that is).  My job was to buy some more and stick/nail it back on.

After finally running out of excuses (I was proud of many of them), on Sunday I was forced to have a go aided by my trusty assistant .

And look.

I know.  Pretty darn sexy, isn't it?!

Vanessa says I have to paint it next