The floor is down. The difference it makes – no more rubbish yellow lino and crap bland carpet. Now grey slate tiles, easy to clean, sort of soft in colour, bringing the 3 living spaces together and just over half the downstairs floor complete. I want the whole of downstairs flooring in place before Christmas. That’s the plan but I am aware that wall smashing and tip running might not permit and that’s not even factoring possible issues with the budget. So we will see.
After two weeks of working from home, cramped in a bedroom while the tiler tiled, I am glad it is over. The last day was the fiddly bit, where no kitchen could be accessed, so pub it was while everything dried and normal service could resume
In a way that can only be an English summer, last week was a mixture of heat waves, monsoons and balmy midsummer evenings.
June, of course, heralds the season of village fetes and summer shows. I won a raffle, listened to live music by the river, danced with some Morris men and walked bare foot in the grass. Last week almost felt like a summer from my childhood. From drenched feet to sunburnt shoulders, summer has arrived in all its madness.
Much love xx
The Frank Journals 