|World Spirit Tarot|
.... But it pours.
Almost literally, in our case.
The damp problem in our front room had come back for the 5th winter in a row, and the final diagnosis has been rising damp combined with condensation. The plaster has been removed, a dehumidifier has been running:
And today the now-injected porous Suffolk brick has been covered with some kind of special smelly goop as a precursor to plastering:
And as if that wasn't bad enough, when the decorator arrived to paint the kitchen today, he found more rising damp in there too:
|retro Bistro-style look|
At least now DH has to stop blaming the cats for the smell - apparently ''Eau de Cat Wee'' is the defining and characteristic aroma of rising damp.
Added to that, yesterday night we spent almost 4 hours in A&E because Destructo Boy, not content with evolving into a feverish puking machine, then developed a pinprick rash .... don't worry, after tests and observations, it turns out it is just some random bug that he's picked up. Thank goodness.
So by the time we got back around 1 a.m, having crawled ever so slowly along in the snow in Wilhelmina the Volvo (in my head I always pronounce that as 'Wolwo' for a more authentically Swedish feel - I just don't want you to miss out on that either) with the special Winter gear control thingy switched on, we were both shattered. And DH has gone to work, and - of course - developed the same sickness as Destructo Boy. Without the rash, at least.
Destructo Boy is home until he is sick-free for 48 hours; Mini Diva's school messed us all around by saying since last night up until just past 8 this morning they were going to be open until .... they were not: the heating system has died over the weekend.
But hey, to make up for the fact that I can't feel my hands or feet because the builders and decorator are in and out like ... I don't know, something too rude for me to say here .... I guess I can try to stay awake and look out at the purty scenery:
|our back garden is under there somewhere|