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It would seem that DIY is catching. CatLady has embarked upon a full programme of household improvements and we are also living in a construction zone.

CatLady’s is a two storey flat and she too was having something done about the popcorn ceilings, which begs a question: why did anyone ever have their ceiling encrusted with extra and frankly unnecessary crust? Was there some kind of useful aspect to this embellishment? Or was it just the fashion of the day twenty or thirty years ago? If so, then I hope I never fall prey to such things.

The Mom has had to have her ceilings sanded, thankfully, that was not the case at CatLady’s. Instead she had hers plastered over. Now, as I was saying it’s a two storey flat and of course the ceiling that needed to be dealt with was the bit over the stairs. Which is problematic. There is no stairs-shaped ladder that I know of. So when the builders showed up – two lovely hardworking chaps with a limited command of English and an incredible work-ethic – they set about figuring it out.

Sadly, I missed the initial planning bit but when I arrived back at the flat, there was a new platform-hutch type thing that was sturdy enough to support two grown men. they’d managed to build it, from scratch using some old MDF that CatLady had hoarded in the shed. It balanced on the bannister and the railings and though it made getting up and down the stairs tricky, it was beyond impressive. It was a work of staggering genius. And it allowed them to not only plaster the ceiling, but for CatLady to then paint the ceiling and the walls. Even the cat liked it.

I was so taken with it, I thought she should leave it up. I believe she took a photo of it, in case of future reference.

The DIY hasn’t been all fun and games though. The water was turned off for a couple of days, the bathroom’s been dicey, and stuff is everywhere. But soon this will all come to an end, not least because I’m shuffling off down the road to Bristol.

But it hasn’t been quite as chaotic as I hear it’s been at The Mom’s. This is because I believe there is something in our collective gene pool that thrives on chaos. We don’t rise to many occasions our lot, but when the chaos is in full swing, we find ourselves in the most natural of environments.

In fact, Crazy D has been sending through photographic evidence of this very thing. Pictures of the Mom, sitting in the midst of mayhem and furniture, dogs and tables draped over couches, and things piled more precariously than usual. And her expression? As ever, she is laughing. This is her natural reaction to anything remotely stressy. She busts a gut laughing.

I suppose raising us lot will ensure that one is able to see the humour in most things. Or at least, one is forced to learn to see the lighter side of life.

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