- Restring the Hills hoist. The former owner had strung it sometime back in the 1960s with electrical wiring, which is quite strong, as it's copper. Unfortunately it's coated in black rubber, which, as it perishes in the sun, leaves nasty black marks on one's washing. It required big snipper-pliers, a hacksaw and calculated swearing to take it off.
- Seal the kitchen floor. More hands-and-knees work. The floor looks appropriately rustic and should stand up to whatever we (literally) throw at it.
- Paint the entrance hall. The practical one thoroughly detests painting, but can't deny that it makes a very big difference. Most of the 1940s vintage cream paint (not) enhanced by 50 years of cigarette smoke is now a lovely, snowy white. Once the skirtings, architraves, window frames and our intricate arch is picked out in foresight blue (that's its real name) it will look quite spectacular.
- Two trips to Ikea. Much as we'd sworn to foreswear the warehouse of frustration and broken fingernails, it turned out to have exactly the sort of stainless steel shelving and racks we needed. The second trip secured the perfect stainless steel island bench. Once the kitchen is painted, we can put up all the shelving and racks and the kitchen will work really well.
- Discover the kitchen mantlepiece is a lovely piece of jarrah. Underneath cream, white, pale green, darkgreen and yellow paint. It's nearly stripped clean, and, once sanded and varnished will be gorgeous.
- Move the rainwater tank. Which had been carefully placed to render the Hills hoist largely useless. This involved emptying it (about a third full) onto the back yard, then rolling it to the concrete pad that was and will be the chook shed. Eventually we'll plumb it to the roof of the new shed for which we haven't yet budgeted.
This weekend we'll fill as many of the holes left by the electricians as we can, then get a lot of painting done, put up blinds in the kitchen and bedroom, shelves and racking in the kitchen.