Oh how the English language can get you into trouble. We have finally succumbed to a decorator coming in to do his best on the sitting room. It's not been touched since we moved in seven years ago. We have lived with orangey browney walls below the dado, a dirty cream above and a green ceiling. We don't even notice now that the chimney breast has been half denuded of its anaglypta since we put a wood burning stove in six long years ago.
Anyway it couldn't go on as it is now directly juxtaposed with a brand newly decorated, spick and span dining room. I procrastinate as it is about decorating my daughter's bedroom so the sitting room wasn't going to get transformed by my clumsy hand any time during this century.
Anyway back to the fun of the English language. My friend rang up at lunch time and asked what was happening in my life to which I replied "Well there's a man stripping in the front room." Wails of laughter followed and a confirmation that it was wall paper being stripped and nothing else. My friend's joy seemed slightly tinged with disappointment.
Later I popped into the sitting room to ask if coffee was required. The decorator had resorted to a steamer to strip the awkward bits. "Gosh it's hot and steamy in here," I ventured with windows condensing and a wall of heat hitting me. I rest my case.
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