For so many reasons: a head full of ideas that demanded to be thought through; because the sun was properly shining for the first time since May; an urgent appointment with a paintbrush, a pot of eco-primer and my bedroom wall; and because I had reached the point with my day job where I was likely to say / write something I would later regret.
Step away from the Send button, Roo!
I took the time to cut some flowers from my herb garden to brighten up the kitchen table.
What a difference!
And all the time, your lovely supportive comments were pouring in. Thank you!
I'm still here, don't worry!
Here I am, paintbrush in hand, posing in an artificial way, but marking the occasion when I finally got round to making my bedroom into a pleasant place.
The primer is covering horrible damp sooty stains that drove through the chimney wall perhaps six / seven years ago, during one of several floods which rotted the carpet and destroyed some lovely old leather-bound books which I had stored in that cupboard to the right of the picture.
Despite almost continuous rainfall over the past three months, I have not had to mop dry the floor for at least two years. It was time to lift the "carpet" of mouldy newspapers and start afresh.
It would be so lovely to sink my bare toes into a soft clean rug in the morning... instead of reaching for thick socks and outdoor shoes to negotiate the cracked tiles and concrete.
So today I set to with the Claypaint, and spent the entire day working my way round the walls, one by one. I still need to tackle the bed-end of the room. My bed is in the former milking shed, knocked through from the main farmhouse in the 1970's, creating this one much larger space. It used to be a "granny flat". In an ideal world I would have a sewing table in here, but FL won't be parted from the two big ugly armchairs which monopolise the floor. As you probably guessed, they are heaped high with his stuff...
And do you see what's on the mantelpiece?
Yes, it's a radio.
Do you know how long it is since I let the music play? FL can't bear to have music on unless he can really hear it (which is too loud for me), and I know he doesn't "get" modern music... unless you mean Bartok. So I don't play "my" music anywhere except when I am alone in the car.
Don't get The Girl started on this subject. She can't believe anyone can live without music.
And actually that was today's biggest revelation - I realised how much I missed having good old-fashioned Radio 2 playing while I worked. It was lovely, bouncing around at the top of my ladder, singing along! So even if I occasionally have to relocate to the bedroom and leave FL in "splendid isolation" as he puts it, I reckon its worth suffering the "little boy lost" look for half an hour for the change in outlook it inspires in me!
Oh... and you know my "ethical" cardigan?
Read the label.
"Made in China".
I tried SO HARD! Was it made in the one and only ethical factory in China, or have I been duped again?
It is lovely. I will wear it every day.
I don't have the energy to send it back.