Not quite according to plan

So it was a weekend of mixed progress.

I spent much of the time failing to complete a bit of artwork – it’s one of those things: I can see in my head what I want it to look like, but there is a communication failure between my head and the pencil tip and what is coming out isn’t quite right. Particularly annoying, because I simply want to complete a pencil drawing of two figures, which I then intend to scan and complete on the computer. Though I may ink it first. Not decided yet.

Some progress has been made, but even frequent breaks to watch Castle and drink tea only helped partially. So it has been rather frustrating all around.


Portrait of the author as a frustrated artist

While I was only being partially successful in my artistic endeavours, Furtle was being only partially successful in her efforts at decorating the bedroom.

Since we moved into the Gin Palace what, 20-21 months back, we have been contemplating painting the bedroom, but have found it difficult to decide on the colour. It ought to be a light, airy room, being south facing with two windows, but with those windows facing directly onto the main road, we tend to keep the curtains closed so the people on the top decks of passing buses can’t peer in, and because the blackout blinds are behind the curtains, they tend to stay closed, too. So the room is rather gloomier than it ought to be.

We toyed with the idea of netting and indeed bought some. Unfortunately, because the windows are triple glazed to keep the noise down, the only way we could think of hanging the nets looked awful, so for the time being…

The upshot is that after shifting the furniture across the room, washing the walls and adding a couple of layers of paint, we now have very yellow walls. They are somewhat brighter in the completed reality than the little splodge from the try out can suggested might be the case. I’m not worried by it; it is certainly bright, but it is also quite cheery. Furtle is less convinced and I think we will be applying a coat of something lighter in the next few weeks.

Anyway, before going to bed last night, we reassembled the bedroom and I spent a happy few minutes trying to remember how to reset the clock radio. When we lived in the Athenaeum the electricity went off so frequently that I could do it without thinking. But after four years with an uninterrupted power supply, I found that I had to give it some thought.

The unexpected upshot of a weekend’s artistic and decorative frustration is that I was dreaming a happy and surreal dream this morning when the alarm went off. I could not stop the damned thing – it was blaring the theme tune to Hawaii 5-0 very loudly and repetitively. I pressed buttons singly, I pressed buttons in combination. I shook the bloddy thing and still it played that damned noise. I unplugged and nothing happened.

I think it was the moment’s bafflement following that action that allowed my still asleep brain to step in and remind me that I haven’t used the clock radio as an alarm for about 18 months and that silence might be better achieved by turning my attention to the iPhone bouncing across the table top…

Not quite according to plan

So it was a weekend of mixed progress.

I spent much of the time failing to complete a bit of artwork – it’s one of those things: I can see in my head what I want it to look like, but there is a communication failure between my head and the pencil tip and what is coming out isn’t quite right. Particularly annoying, because I simply want to complete a pencil drawing of two figures, which I then intend to scan and complete on the computer. Though I may ink it first. Not decided yet.

Some progress has been made, but even frequent breaks to watch Castle and drink tea only helped partially. So it has been rather frustrating all around.


Portrait of the author as a frustrated artist

While I was only being partially successful in my artistic endeavours, Furtle was being only partially successful in her efforts at decorating the bedroom.

Since we moved into the Gin Palace what, 20-21 months back, we have been contemplating painting the bedroom, but have found it difficult to decide on the colour. It ought to be a light, airy room, being south facing with two windows, but with those windows facing directly onto the main road, we tend to keep the curtains closed so the people on the top decks of passing buses can’t peer in, and because the blackout blinds are behind the curtains, they tend to stay closed, too. So the room is rather gloomier than it ought to be.

We toyed with the idea of netting and indeed bought some. Unfortunately, because the windows are triple glazed to keep the noise down, the only way we could think of hanging the nets looked awful, so for the time being…

The upshot is that after shifting the furniture across the room, washing the walls and adding a couple of layers of paint, we now have very yellow walls. They are somewhat brighter in the completed reality than the little splodge from the try out can suggested might be the case. I’m not worried by it; it is certainly bright, but it is also quite cheery. Furtle is less convinced and I think we will be applying a coat of something lighter in the next few weeks.

Anyway, before going to bed last night, we reassembled the bedroom and I spent a happy few minutes trying to remember how to reset the clock radio. When we lived in the Athenaeum the electricity went off so frequently that I could do it without thinking. But after four years with an uninterrupted power supply, I found that I had to give it some thought.

The unexpected upshot of a weekend’s artistic and decorative frustration is that I was dreaming a happy and surreal dream this morning when the alarm went off. I could not stop the damned thing – it was blaring the theme tune to Hawaii 5-0 very loudly and repetitively. I pressed buttons singly, I pressed buttons in combination. I shook the bloddy thing and still it played that damned noise. I unplugged and nothing happened.

I think it was the moment’s bafflement following that action that allowed my still asleep brain to step in and remind me that I haven’t used the clock radio as an alarm for about 18 months and that silence might be better achieved by turning my attention to the iPhone bouncing across the table top…