Today Jean-Luc and I have been busy; very busy.
We are feeling virtuous and hard working.
Jean-Luc has been vacuuming spider webs from the ceiling and cornice and cuprinolling the boards which, one day, will form the sides of the much heralded; but as yet unbuilt, veggie beds.
I have been scrubbing. All the doors, door frames, skirting boards, stair rails, banisters and other sundry woodwork have been scrubbed and washed from the attic all the way down to the hall.
There are no pictures of all this industry, it is not photogenic.
Suffice to say Jean-Luc ended up dusty and dirty with a faint Cuprinol moustache; whilst I have the knees of a housemaid and the withered fingers of a scullery maid.
Why all this industry I hear you ask?
Well we have a decorator coming to paint diverse and various rooms.
We have spent weeks with paint charts scattered across the dining table and living room.
We've had samples wedged into picture frames and stared at them in sunlight and cloud, day and night, in daylight and lamplight.
And finally we have Decided.
So the highly recommended Dot is coming to paint our bedroom with its raw plaster walls; our hall, stairs and landing which Jean-Luc was thinking of painting and which I vetoed as being too dangerous without the aid of a net; and the living room which we thought could benefit from the tender auspices of a professional.
The living room will have a light sage ceiling, magnolia walls and a darker green sage on the alcoves above the bookshelves and on the wall opposite the window. We're hoping it'll be warmer than the as yet identified cold greyish colour we have inherited.
The bedroom will also be magnolia with the wall opposite the window will be a lovely sunny warm yellow.
This will be in an attempt to make this north facing room warm and bright.
It's not the 'master bedroom' of the house. That bedroom faces south but also overlooks the quite busy road that runs outside the front of the house.
The bedroom we sleep in is almost as large as the 'master bedroom'; it overlooks the fields at the back of the house, which means we can lie in bed on a Sunday and gaze at the view and admire the cows; we can listen to the sound of the braying donkey and the gentle clucking of the neighbours chickens and, when the wind is in the right direction, the sound of church bells; but most importantly we cannot hear the traffic.
This makes it worth it being a slightly chillier room in our estimation.
However, we are both sick and tired of raw plaster wall and eagerly await the rooms transformation into something cheery and bright.
It may be so cheery and bright that it will require new bedding to measure up.
I have been perusing the John Lewis bedding just in case. Jean-Luc doesn't know this yet. I'll break it to him gently at a later date.