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Chutney or paint?

Around this time, I had intended to make many jars of tomato chutney, or possibly preserve some slow-roasted tomatoes. 

It is not to be. The huge crop of tomatoes which had been burgeoning at the bottom of the garden has all rotted. Admittedly I had tied each plant (grown lovingly from seed this year) to insufficient support rather than sourcing new canes, but I’m not sure that was the fatal issue. From a brief google session, I reckon some sort of parasite has got them. Fortunately, three or four plants in a different part of the garden seem to have survived and I have precisely two ripe red fruits on the kitchen windowsill from these. I think we might just eat these fresh.

So, I have been forced to rethink my domestic plans. With little prospect of escape to anywhere exotic for the next six months, I have decided that there is no choice other than to embark on the redecoration project that we have been collectively putting off for several years now. 

Every room needs something done. Most of it is beyond our skills, especially my own. However, there are two bedrooms – one of which I use as my office – which I reckon I can tackle without too much help. So, in order to force the issue, last week I stripped one of these of most of its furniture, removed everything that was stuck to its walls, washed them down and tried several tester pots of paint in random patches. It can’t just sit like that for another season now, because my actions also mean that the other bedrooms have each acquired surplus crap as a result, and thus we need to rectify this at least before Christmas, in case we are able to have guests over the festive season. Ideally I would have completed my office revamp by then too.

I’ve filled several plaster cracks, perching at times at the top of our old step-ladder.I still haven’t decided what colour to use, nor what kind of floor-covering or curtain vs blind. I’m frantically doing all sorts of other things in the meantime to put off these difficult decisions. I have been told (by my daughter, whose room it previously was) that I am not allowed to paint it Magnolia. I had no intention of using Magnolia, but now every colour I’ve slapped up to test seems to be remarkably similar.

Will the enforced re-isolation render me sufficiently bored to summon up enough get-up-and-go? And will that be soon enough?

We will see. 

(Tried to work in some word-play using ‘relish’ – “I don’t relish the thought of all those paint-spattered hours” vs “no tomato relish for me” – but somehow my creative energies remain below par. Tomato relish definitely off this year though. Oh, it’s the thought that counts!)

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