It's finished! The staircase has lost its DIY-in-the-'80s look, having been stripped of its old embossed wallpaper, had its many holes and crumbling patches repaired, lined, and repainted, and now smells violently of gloss paint, but it looks SO much better. The mantra "It will be worth it in the end" has proved exactly right.
Tomorrow, when all has dried, the handles and finger plates will go back on the doors, and Margery and I will do our White Tornado double act: she, being the Vacuum Princess, will hoover that old stair carpet to within an inch of its life, and I will damp-dust yet again (all those bits behind the furniture!) and perhaps take a picture of that new lobby door..... plain pine or painted? Wait and see.
And who has paint on their fur or whiskers? Nobody. This is a first. Who left fingerprints on the still-tacky paint, that had then to be repainted? Yes, me.
The Little Helper is going to be bored and lonely now; she bonded enthusiastically with Wally, watching him work as though she was going to sit an exam in paintbrush technique. Today, however, she took some time out to get onto the shed roof and from there into my neighbour's back yard. There are newts and frogs in there; I have watched her killer response to the bit of navy blue fur with a bell on, that she drops into my lap so that I can throw it for her to catch, again and again, and dread to think what fun she thinks we will have with a living creature.
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