Readers of this blog might just be able to remember an old post I wrote months ago about the ongoing saga which became globally known as, Our Unpainted And Flaking Bedroom Ceiling. Fortunately no one will yet be familiar with the other possible internet sensations now happening in my life but include, A Very Wonky Kitchen Floorboard, or, The Incredible Leaking Bath Plug.
You certainly read important and internationally breaking news here first folks.
This week Guido inadvertently added yet another item to the ever growing list of DIY disasters. Whilst drawing up the window blind in our bedroom he successfully managed to rip it completely free from the bolts holding it to the ceiling which were clinging on for dear life – old and fatigued, I expect. God, I know just how those screws must have felt.
“Don’t worry,” said Guido brushing plaster dust from the top of his head at the time. “Keep calm. I’ll re-hang tomorrow.”
That was six days ago and I’m still waiting and I’m still counting. I feel I’ve now got no other option but to call this latest unfortunate incident, The Unhinged Pelmet. This should not in any way whatsoever be confused with, The Unhidged Front Door. Opening that currently involves performing something not dissimilar to The Heimlich Maneuver on the lock and handle every time we want to get into our home and, frankly, it’s becoming tedious.
Well last night, whilst Guido was cooking dinner, I decided to strike whilst the pan was sizzling hot.
“I’m thinking about hiring a man,” I said completely casually, “and please don’t feel it’s at all a reflection on what you can do or cannot do with those big strong hands of yours. But to be honest, I’ve decided I’d be more than happy to find, and pay, a professional.”
Guido started to stir his risotto anti-clockwise in a blind panic. Then the penny eventually dropped who I was hiring, and why.
“Well,” he said, “if you’re talking about the VERY few MINOR bits of DIY which I’ve promised to fix over the last fifteen years, let me make absolutely clear, I’m perfectly CAPABLE.”
Please note the capatalization in the sentence above.
No, it wasn’t lost on me either as I sat listening intently on our, Sofa With The Missing Left Foot, which is currently being propped up with a 2014 curled and tattered copy of the South London Yellow Pages.
“If I can fry mushrooms in a Dutch Oven without crowding them in the pan then I can screw down a wonky floorboard,” said Guido smugly. There was an ominous ping, as he kept stepping on it.
“Okay,” I said, “but just promise me one thing, you’ll take your time and you’ll use the proper tools.”
Well, when I got home from work tonight boy was I in for a very pleasant surprise. Picture it. I found Guido standing in the loft, wearing cut off Levis, Caterpillar boots, a tight fitting white vest, and a very chunky tool belt buckled round his hips. Never before had home improvement pricked my interest so overwhelmingly.
“Where d’you want me to start?” asked Guido obligingly revving up his drill bit in anticipation.
“How about the bedroom?” I said naturally.
Needless to say there’s been a lot of screwing going on.