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A Suffusion of Yellow
Monday, March 26th, 2012 11:15 amI go away for the weekend and come back on Sunday to discover that Furtle has been busy.
The bedroom is yellow. Very yellow. Plastic banana yellow. It doesn't quite match anything natural, but is significantly cheery and while it doesn't match, neither does it clash with anything, surprisingly. The decorating of the bedroom is not yet complete, even the mighty Furtelle could not move the wardrobe solo, so the walls and the skirting board are tidily painted to that point. It will probably be a couple of weeks for one reason or another, before we drag that out away from the wall and finish the job, but it's not as if the wall is visible behind the wardrobe. In a little while I shall be putting the shelves back up on her side of the bed and we will be back to some sort of normality in there.
Jobs left to do in the near future, then, are to fix the tiling in the shower (no, still not done) - the wall must be dry by now, so I shall get some cement next weekend and start filling the space in. I am still narked that whoever installed the shower stopped the tray flush with the tiles rather than with the wall behind them, allowing the tiles themselves to abut the tray and guide the water away from the wall. This is what I meant when I complained that the tiles did not go down behind the tray itself. I accept that I explained my annoyance incorrectly. But I am convinced that the tray should be flush with the wall without the tiles and then the latter added. The installation we have seems almost designed to guide potential leaking water onto the wall rather than into the drain. The plumber is coming on Saturday to fix the cistern in the loo, so I may ask his opinion (if he has one) before I get filling.
While Furtle was busy with her redecorating I was in Marlow playing games for the weekend. I'm not sure, but despite being pretty much the same latitude though a few miles further west, the area around Marlow and High Wycombe seems to be a little further advanced into spring than is our little enclave in Ilford. Certainly I saw numerous examples of my own plantish nemesis, the cherry tree, in full bloom. I've seen one or two from the train into London, too, though the two cherry trees in and/or overhanging our back garden are only budding. We are still a few days away from significant blossom and the attendant hay fever (though there is enough pollen around already for me to feel it on my chest).
I wonder why the time lag between the trees? If the latitudes were significantly different I could understand it, but I wasn't aware that longitude had that much of an effect, the climate is not significantly different in Essex, surely? It's all maritime, I think?
The bedroom is yellow. Very yellow. Plastic banana yellow. It doesn't quite match anything natural, but is significantly cheery and while it doesn't match, neither does it clash with anything, surprisingly. The decorating of the bedroom is not yet complete, even the mighty Furtelle could not move the wardrobe solo, so the walls and the skirting board are tidily painted to that point. It will probably be a couple of weeks for one reason or another, before we drag that out away from the wall and finish the job, but it's not as if the wall is visible behind the wardrobe. In a little while I shall be putting the shelves back up on her side of the bed and we will be back to some sort of normality in there.
Jobs left to do in the near future, then, are to fix the tiling in the shower (no, still not done) - the wall must be dry by now, so I shall get some cement next weekend and start filling the space in. I am still narked that whoever installed the shower stopped the tray flush with the tiles rather than with the wall behind them, allowing the tiles themselves to abut the tray and guide the water away from the wall. This is what I meant when I complained that the tiles did not go down behind the tray itself. I accept that I explained my annoyance incorrectly. But I am convinced that the tray should be flush with the wall without the tiles and then the latter added. The installation we have seems almost designed to guide potential leaking water onto the wall rather than into the drain. The plumber is coming on Saturday to fix the cistern in the loo, so I may ask his opinion (if he has one) before I get filling.
While Furtle was busy with her redecorating I was in Marlow playing games for the weekend. I'm not sure, but despite being pretty much the same latitude though a few miles further west, the area around Marlow and High Wycombe seems to be a little further advanced into spring than is our little enclave in Ilford. Certainly I saw numerous examples of my own plantish nemesis, the cherry tree, in full bloom. I've seen one or two from the train into London, too, though the two cherry trees in and/or overhanging our back garden are only budding. We are still a few days away from significant blossom and the attendant hay fever (though there is enough pollen around already for me to feel it on my chest).
I wonder why the time lag between the trees? If the latitudes were significantly different I could understand it, but I wasn't aware that longitude had that much of an effect, the climate is not significantly different in Essex, surely? It's all maritime, I think?