At the office this afternoon just waiting for my machine to reboot before I get on with some pressing work. Last night we went to Ikea and bought Sam’s cot and changing table/chest of drawers along with a few other things that caught our eye. I then somehow went into energetic mode and instead of going to bed and flaking out like I probably should have, whipped Bill into constructing the furniture as soon as got home. I was on a mission, he wasn’t happy, but I went to bed happy that the weekend had just started and we had already accomplished a lot.
I woke up this morning with a similar nesting fervour and set about trying to tackle the light in Sam’s room. I wanted to get rid of the “Trago Mills special” and replace it with something funky for our little boy. I tried to creep out of bed and get started on this without dragging Bill into it, but I don’t creep very well at the moment. He woke up and soon twigged what I was up to when he realised I’d turned the power off so I could play with the light fitting.
I got banned from climbing ladders and my honey got up and set to work completing the job for me. It actually turned into quite a nightmare. Usual story. What should have been a simple task of removing one light fixture and replacing it with another turned far more complex when we uncovered the disaster the previous owner had left behind.
When we removed the existing light we found a huge hole in the ceiling that would need to be repaired. Undaunted, Bill set to work, but every time he tried to patch the hole more of the ceiling fell down on top of us. After much cursing and swearing he finally managed to get most of the hole patched and filled and now we are waiting for that to set before filling the rest of the problem area and splodging on enough paint to cover up the mess.
Meanwhile, the dogs had been put into the backyard out of the way. I went to let them back in once we were done and Quince came waggling in, but Genghis was nowhere to be seen. I called him and called him and there was no sign of the little red dog.
After waiting a little while to see if he turned up at the neighbours across the street, I formed a search party with Quince and took a walk around the block. Nothing.
We got back to the house and Bill and I went to take another look out back in case Genghis was roaming the no man’s land behind our yard and before the interstate. Bill yelled Genghis’ name once and I couldn’t believe it when he just casually trotted up to us from the far end of the garden! That little scamp! He’d completely ignored me when I was calling him then. The filthy beast was covered in mud and had obviously been rolling around enjoying himself.
Oh well, at least he is safe, and Quince was happy, he got a nice walk out of it.
Now, Genghis hates swearing and always gets very nervous when he hears expletives, whether on the telly or coming from his angry daddy’s mouth. Last night when Bill had been putting the Ikea flatpacks together Genghis has got upset and tried to hide in the bathtub before running outside and shaking in the garden. I wonder if the commotion over the ceiling this morning had distressed him and he’d just gone to ground in the back yard again until the air was less ripe again? I also wonder what on earth his former home must’ve been like to make him so anxious?