Messy? Moi

Messi? The Husband? Don’t call him Lionel… or it can get NASTY
We have reached a tipping point where everything is getting put back together, the awful rubble stage is well and truly over, the plaster dust stage is coming to a climax, and yes, joy of joys - the house is now ripe with paint fumes - not gloss you understand - we’re not that far. And so the great tidying has begun. All those tools that won’t be needed anymore have been gathered, and, well, dumped on the kitchen table.
They’ll find their way home eventually - or they’ll get dumped in garage

ma table de cuisine
my kitchen table

look! paint…

attention! peinture...

Cheers Tanya, but like all our projects the very second the last lick of paint goes on we'll be moving out! Hence my blog Up Stix To France And worse still, as ever, I'm the one who gets to do the gloss...

I see you're involved in the great "James and The Giant Wood Burning Stove" debate! If my husband (anthony brady) would stop replying he might get our house finished... still he only has the dog to talk to at home