Busy day chez Chateau Midden

Will Fixit arrived today to replace the downstairs loo; and unintentionally caused a domino effect.

To backtrack ...

There is a tiny cloak-cupboard next to the front door in the hall.

When Mum last visited many years ago Alzheimer’s meant she had forgotten how to climb stairs, so I hired a commode from the Red Cross and put it in the cloak-cupboard in case she needed to pay a visit.  Mum and Dad were staying in a hotel with the siblings who had driven them up.  When the time came to return the commode I realised the closet was just big enough for a real loo and consulted Will Fixit who installed the smallest available at the time.  We painted the little room but left the coat-hooks in place; these have been used for hanging hats, bags, umbrellas, walking sticks, over-trousers and rain-jackets in little drawstring bags.  It is also where the welly-puller-offer and cat litter tray live (so much nicer than in the kitchen) and occasionally cats and humans go together.

Mother passed away in 2003 and, apart from replacing the lino, little has been done

A few weeks ago I noticed the pipe from the cistern to the bowl had streaks of red and blue on it.  The plastic cistern had a slow leak and when the water coming out evaporated it was leaving bits of bloo and pink cistern block behind.  Pretty but worrying.  Hence the need for a new system.

The first domino was last night when, in preparation, I removed all the hats, bags, umbrellas, walking sticks etc. and put them in the living room.  The potted scented geranium on the windowsill and has gone outside for a summer holiday.  The four dragons that lived around it are now on the living room windowsill.

This morning all the spare loo rolls, loo brush, plunger, bleach and spare cat litter was moved, and the cat litter tray taken away, emptied and left in the sun to sweeten.   
The walls were dusted down and the floor hoovered so that Will Fixit had a more pleasant work environment.

As well as installing the new loo he fixed a loose board on the half landing (“before someone goes through”), put a bit of board over a hole Ferretfingers picked in the bath panel, fitted an overflow pipe onto one of our water-butts, tried to solve the recurring problem of out drippy kitchen tap and glued the outside of the front door letter box back on.

The new loo and cistern system is considerably smaller than the old one.   
I now have five clear inches between my knees and the door when enthroned.   
Hopefully this will encourage other family members to close the door when they perform.

When all was done Will Fixit, Fester and I looked at the paintwork in the loo and agreed that it had done well considering it had been there hearly twenty years, but what with the new loo being so much smaller and exposing bits of unpainted wall and windowsill ….

Fester said “We need to give it a wash and brush down and slap on some white emulsion.  Have we got any white emulsion?  What about brushes?”

Then “The bath panel – what about that pink paint left over from the living room?   
We could use that.”

I think he may have heard me muttering about “the Royal we” to Will because, after I’d dug the brush and paint out of the garage there he was with a stirrer and up to the bathroom to do the first coat of pink on the bath panel.   
Whereupon the brush handle fell off.

(Now I’m not one to complain but the bath is a slightly orangey pink whilst the once white panel is now a more strawberry cream shade.  The colours don’t so much scream at each other as whisper spitefully.)

Having broken the brush there was nothing for it but an after tea trip to Wickes;  where we bought a tin of white emulsion, two new brushes, white gaffer tape, superglue and a pair of new ear-defenders for Ferretfingers.  Because when you go to a store like that you have to have a good look around and invariably find other things to buy.

As I type this I can hear a gentle knocking beneath my feet as Fester finds his DIY mojo in the downstairs loo.

According to him “The last time I did anything like this was back in the 1980s.”

Another evening chez Chateau Midden

Because of Ferretfingers’ aural hypersensitivity (particularly when it comes to music) I mostly watch television wearing cordless headphones.  They also help drown out his incessant humming and make following dialogue a lot easier.

Last night I sat, headphones on, watching Notorious* on the Tivobox, trying to knit in a puddle of light from the ‘daylight’ standard lamp Fester bought me for my last birthday. 

It was daylight when I started, and I hadn’t moved since sunset so the curtains were open well after dark or 10pm.  

Suddenly Ferretfingers says "knock on the door!"  

I stand up and peer out of the front bay window; seeing through the gloom not helped by the fact my eyes hadn’t adjusted from the light.

I think I can see a small ghostly figure on the front path, but not sure, so take off headphones, go to the door and find Ernextdoor with a woman I've never seen before.  

Ernextdoor in pyjamas and possibly drink.  

Woman is her cousin from Kent who can't work her front door:  it’s one of those ones where you have to lift the handle up before/after you insert/turn the key.  

So if she has trouble getting in can she knock on my door for assistance?  

Certainly, together we shall be able to bugger it up completely.  

Whilst this conversation is going on Teddy the Ginger Git cat takes the opportunity to slip out.  

Thunderthighs notices (how? radar? instinct?) and comes avalanching down from the loft to get him in.  

Also in pyjamas but barefoot so can't walk on the gravel drive.  

So there's four of us cat herding and the cat going up and down the drive, over the fence into the front garden - where Thunderthighs finally captures him and takes him in the house.   

Ernextdoor and cousin return to her house and we all go in.

Thunderthighs "You will remember to shut the kitchen door when you go snail hunting won't you."  

I reassure him I will.  

All returns to what passes for normal.

*Cary Grant, Ingrid Bergman and Claude Rains in black and white and with overtones of promiscuity you don’t expect from 1946.

A normal evening chez Chateau Midden

Fester has been away for a couple of days so it has been fairly peaceful.

This afternoon I decided I’d been wishing for sunny weather for so long that I should take full advantage of it.  So, after I’d finished hanging out the washing (including a duvet), I put a blanket out on the lawn and lay reading a Dick Francis (Slay Ride) and sipping orangeade. Both cats took turns to lie next to me, and on the book.  Starlings and blackbirds chattered at me from the apple trees wondering why I hadn’t refilled their feeder.  A frog in the pond made a strange piping sound.  Sun caressed my back and thighs and a large straw hat shaded the pages.  Bliss.

Thunderthighs went to the takeaway for tea and I ate my burger and chips lying in the sun reading.

When it started to get chilly I came in, put on my dressing gown and was scrolling through facebook when there was a knock at the office door.

“Come in.”

Thunderthighs stood there with a feather duster in his hand – this is what we use to remove insects from the velux in the kitchen roof.  You stand on a stool, shove the feather duster at the bee/hoverfly/wasp until it gets annoyed enough to grab it, then shake the duster out of the window and off it flies.

“What is it and where is it?”

“A wasp in the light well.”

Even though his father is an entomologist every flying thing from a gnat to a bumblebee is a wasp to Thunderthighs.

I sighed, took the feather duster and went down stairs with “I don’t know why your grey haired aged mother has to clamber up the step stool and deal with these sort of things when you’re tall enough to reach.”

“Well, frankly, I chickened out.”

I had to admire his honesty.

The step stool was brought forth and the window opened.   

I climbed up and started shoving the duster at the waspy thing, which kept crawling into the crack between the glass and the frame.

Half way through these proceedings I heard the front door slam and a “Oh hello” from Thunderthighs as his father returned.  Fester was completely unfazed to see his wife in her dressing gown, on a step stool, wielding a feather duster.

Eventually I got the thing on the duster and shook it out of the window and watched it fly away.

As it flew off Teddy the Ginger Git cat came in through the window, onto the kitchen table, grabbed the feather duster in his mouth and jumped down.   

Sadly for him I still had a firm grip on the handle so he hung by his teeth for a moment before slithering off.