Unclad

Finally, the house is free of scaffolding. I thought that meant I could finally have some natural light in my office, but Mr B tells me I must wait until the inside of my shutters are cleaned and painted, because it will spoil the effect.

One of the scaffolding removers, turns out, is a mason who can fix the broken stone steps in front of (and unbeknownst to him behind) the house. So he’s coming round weekend after next to quote for that. And so the money pit continues to absorb whatever we can throw at it!

Meanwhile, the money-generation end of the bargain continues to grind along painfully. With so many businesses having year end (and therefore budget expiry) this month, all my service-provider clients are racing to get contracts signed. Too much work is a nice problem to have, but I’m a bit over it just now - to be honest.

To bring balance to the force, I did 15 minutes of weeding where the scaffolding was, and then had a curry and watched way too much telly with Mr B.