"No problem" I said, not minding the thought of spending a couple of hours, paintbrush in hand, artistically slapping eau de nil paint over the tatty woodwork.
"You'll need to wash the green from the sides though," he added, smiling at my naive enthusiasm.
The forecast states that the next three days will be hot, sunny and perfect weather for washing down the shed, letting it dry and then painting it. So, this morning, while Grumps was reluctantly
Firstly, I noticed that the elderberry hedging from the field next-door was touching the back of the shed. So, I found the loppers and climbed between the seven foot wall by the field and the woodwork. Suffice to say, I now have one crushed thumb (slight exaggeration, maybe), a bruised chest (the less said about that the better), and I dread to think what insects down the back of my tee shirt.
Then, I filled the mop bucket with hot soapy water, got the soft yard brush and began the awkward task of washing the woodwork. I'm now soaking wet, gritting my teeth from close encounters with several behemoth spiders, and not quite so keen on having to paint. *shivers*
Time for a cup of tea, I think. I have a feeling I'm far better suited to lying in the sunshine reading a book than trying to act as if I'm good at this DIY lark.
UPDATE: I've updated the picture at the top of this post with an 'After' photo. Yes, I know, it doesn't look much different, does it? And naturally the day couldn't pass without his grumpiness getting in on the action.