A Workman and her Tools

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Today I tried my hand at some DIY. You know the kind of thing: you wear old clothes and do something messy whilst holding a tool or two.

In my case I decided it was time to put together the poppy I have been storing from the Tower of London's magnificent display in its moat last year. Following the instructions in the box, I amassed gardening gloves, a hammer and no I baulked at eye protection (nanny state gone crazy unless someone thought I was actually likely to stab myself in the eye with the stalk). The trouble was that when I analysed the contents it was only to discover that I had been supplied with two washers the same size and no spacer to actually fit inside the poppy head. Mister E came to the rescue with a collection of assorted plastic washers that he had been hanging onto, just in case (I know it defeats the letting go principles of the #minsgame), and out we went into the garden. Sadly there was no need for the hammer, as the stalk was more than adequate at piercing its own hole in the ground, but I did wear my gloves.

Inspired by the bout of activity outside, I engaged on Day 2 of a decorating project with a tin of primer, a paint brush, a tub of polyfilla and a filling trowel. Plenty of scope there for a mess!

The primer was applied to the bare plaster areas easily but there's something about trowels; they just don't spread polyfilla the way it should go (yes  I make no excuses, a bad workman does indeed blame her tools). Fortunately a wet rag and my fingers came to the rescue and even if I say so myself I was rather pleased with the results although I did have to scrub my hands and then have a bath afterwards. Maybe gloves might have been of more use for decorating but there was no reference on the box. I'm sure there'll come a point in retirement when I'll get the hang of the technique, there's still an awful lot of house awaiting its makeover.

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