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This week, loyal readers, I will  be indulging in a little “Hurrah for me!” This would normally make me feel a little uncomfortable but I feel as if I deserve it just this once. It has been quite some time since I embarked on a project and then completed it. I have cupboards full of half sewn dresses, half crocheted blankets and half knitted toys. Some of these projects are so old I’m actually rather surprised the moths haven’t eaten them to dust.

It’s at times like this that I wish I was a bit more into photo-documenting everything because instead of just showing you the finished product, I could show you the hideously ugly collection of mismatched chairs I picked up from the local British Heart Foundation charity shop. I could show you how they were patiently sanded down by the increasingly handy about the house IT genius. I could show you how they were lovingly painted by yours truly or at the very least how I managed to get paint in my hair, on my clothes, all over my hands and in the sink. That way, the benefits of the lesson on which liquid is suitable for cleaning away paint with an eggshell finish (not water, some success with acetone-based nail varnish remover, best results about two weeks later with white spirit) would not be mine alone.

While on the subject of white spirit, I find myself in somewhat of a snaffoo with regards to disposal. Obviously it is highly toxic to the aquatic environment and as a conscientious citizen I cannot bring myself to pour it down the drain. However, since it is also a highly volatile compound and toxic to air-breathing organisms, I can only imagine that just leaving it in an unsealed jar while it slowly evaporates away is merely another highly unsuitable solution. I believe what I should be doing is putting it in a sealed container and transferring it to my nearest municipal waste processing facility. Can you imagine the looks on those chaps faces when I turn up with my little jam jar of paint tainted white spirit, perhaps alighting from a bus or a bicycle, with nothing else to deposit? Would that be weird? I can’t tell.

Unfortunately, I took no photos other than of the finished articles, et voila:

While it was a bit of a triumph getting the chairs so cheaply, I’ve spent more on getting nice paint and fabric. And a sander. And a staple gun. And staples. But if I sold these chairs for £15 each I’d make a tidy profit. However, profit wasn’t the motivation. I’m now able to offer hospitality in a unique setting. No one else has these chairs and I’m expecting quite a few coos of delight over that cat design. The fabric was eye-wateringly expensive but I only needed to buy half a metre and I still have quite a bit left. I might be sporting a kitty cat handbag, tea cosy and door stop a few months from now or at least I would be if I ever finished a project. The blue fabric was more reasonably priced although I think it looks rather classy. Both the cats fabric and the blue fabric were procured from my local fabric shop Rolls and Rems which definitely looks more downmarket than Liberty but still stocks some high end bolts. The pink cloth has come to me all the way from India in the loving hands of a dear friend.

Despite thoughts of profit being far from my mind, I just wanted some chairs that wouldn’t really match my ridiculously oversized dining table, I did briefly dabble with a grand plan for starting my own business. Following a bit of research (Google) I discovered that there isn’t much out there in the way of upcycled mismatching dining chairs so there was definitely a niche in the market for me to fill but then after some further research (eBay) it seemed there wasn’t much demand for it either. So all in one afternoon was the birth and death of my reclamation/upcycling business which I was going to incorporate into my women’s+pets’ refuge. A grand plan we may well discuss at another time.

Now, I know what you’re thinking…three chairs? Really? Really?! I know, but listen, I have a plan. There is an old wooden chest that I’ve had since time immemorial i.e. always, that really needs a good old sanding down. After that, I’m going to paint it the same grey as the chairs and use it as a fourth seat. Then, inside, I can store all the sleepover things for transforming the drawing room into a temporary second dressing room or boudoir. Traditionally, more place settings may be required to host the perfect dinner party but as I only have three matching plates and four knives/forks/spoons, I’ll have to limit my social circle for now.

If “Come Dine With Me” is to be believed, I now need to start entertaining lots of thirty-somethings who love to be the “centre of attention” and turn into snarling bitches when they get in the taxi and have to rate your performance. I have to admit, not only have I never hosted your traditional north London dinner party, I don’t think I’ve ever been to one. The skills of the hostess are utterly beyond me, maybe there’s a book on it or something. I’ll do some research (Google), rebuild my ridiculously oversized dining table and someday soon invite some misfits round for an evening of delicious food, made awkward by the lack of hospitality and conversation. Won’t that be fun.

GRPs for catching up on the sleep deficit yesterday: +1

CRPs for catching up on the sleep deficit instead of studying: -1

FitnePs for the first bit of exercise in at least a week (but quite a bit of it): +5

FitnePs for all the snack attacks I keep succumbing to: -3

Total so far…

  • Karma: +18
  • FRP: +145.1
  • Relationships: +4
  • Family: +10
  • Friends: +13 [Supplementary PPs: +2]
  • Career: +16
  • Fitness: +4
  • General: +9
  • Hospitality: +2
LYRIC OF THE WEEK: WEAK AS I AM NO TEARS FOR YOU.
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