Eddie Inspires A Neighbour To Paint His House . . . . But He Catches His Roof Alight!

This Painting and Decorating experience occurred during my first 'stint' at self employment in the 1980s, not long after my first job redundancy.

But first, thank you for your kind comments concerning The Sunday Roast - I suspect many more read my post than commented, which is a shame I think because I would welcome any feedback.  I am very busy right now with an extensive revamp of my study, following a lot of other decorating and garden projects. Mrs Bluelights has an extremely long whip and an even longer 'do-list'.  When sanity returns I intend writing to those kind volunteers who wish to help with the project and I shall write each of you soon. Also I will write to all 'roastees' currently in the oven and wondering when they will be 'cooked' or whether they will end up as burnt offerings..  Hopefully I can do this soon when all the on-going domestic projects are complete.

Now back to the Painting and Decorating project.  I really enjoyed doing this one.  I placed a small advertisement in our local paper and was invited to provide a quotation for painting this huge house - in dire need of extensive repairs and a face lift.  The owner was a 'big wheel' in the electricity industry and to cut the story short a couple of weeks later I arrived at the site with my trusty ladder and equipment.  Boy what a job it turned out to be!!  Just look at that horrible load of rhubarb I had to deal with.  I had already said that the gables should not be reached with a ladder because they were of plaster construction and there are tales of ladders going straight through the plaster and depositing unwitting painters into the attic. What a shock they must have had.

The owner, in his wisdom, obviously took what I said on board and thought he would be helpful.  He arranged to have a scaffolding tower erected so I could reach the gables.  Unfortunately, the window bay projected much too far and consequently the top platform was out of reach of the house.  Plus, there was a very steep slope from the house into the road and the whole thing looked decidedly 'dodgy' - I did not wish to dive into the road accompanied by a scaffolding tower so I had to order some traditional scaffolding, which arrived the next day.  As you can see there are two gables and I christened them Great Gable and Green Gable, after two mountains I have climbed in the Lake District.  The woodwork and plasterwork required a lot of attention. It was hot for the three weeks I was there and it was at the height of the wasp season.  Whole squadrons continually buzzed me all day long when I was high up on the scaffolding.  More that one colony was flying in and out of the tile spaces to what must be at least two nests in the roof space.  The plaster was pitted with little round holes and when I enquired of the owner what these might be he replied that his son regularly shot pigeons with his air rifle.  His son was a long distance lorry driver and was due to return home in a few days.  Here is another photo after I had repaired some woodwork and applied some primer to Great Gable. I had sealed the tiles with cement as well so the little blighters could not get in or out of the roof - eventually they 'buzzed off'.

The house was very interesting.  Inside the area of the smaller gable was a beautiful music room with a fabulous stereo system and a huge grand piano which I was fortunate to play a few times.  The owner liked Scott Joplin and I still have the tapes he let me copy and I was inspired to buy  three Scott Joplin Ragtime music books.  I still have a go at them sometimes today - all great fun. 

Anyway, back to the story after that short digression.  I was minding my own business, concentrating on my work and as happy as a sand boy when I looked up and saw some thick black smoke emanating from a house a hundred yards or so up the road.  Then I heard the familiar sound of a fire engine, or was it two? By then the fire had taken a real hold and huge flames were leaping into the air from the roof.  I could hear the crackle and pop of the fire and wondered how it had started.  Fortunately the fire brigade managed to get the fire under control.  I soon had my answer - the unfortunate owner apparently had been inspired by my efforts and he decided to go up his ladder with a blow lamp with the intention of stripping off flaking paint before painting the house himself.  The felt caught fire immediately - what a plonker!! What had he between those two ears doing a 'daft' thing like that.  Eventually all was quiet but I bet his Mrs was far from quiet for a long time.

Half way through repairing the plasterwork I arrived one morning to see some fresh air rifle pellets embedded in my work. It was that gun happy son shooting pigeons again. I blew a fuse and marched to see the owner who was very apologetic but remarked that his son was not quite normal - boy I do pick 'em don't I. I remember saying I hoped his son did not mistake me for a wood pigeon.  It seems his father managed to prevent any further transgressions so I managed to finish the work on the scaffolding and move on to other areas. At that time I had not purchased my triple extension ladder and had to make do with a double which was not quite long enough for parts of the job.  I remember building a platform using an old door to tackle the highest reaches of a side elevation. Eddie defies gravity yet again!  I should have been spider man.

The whole job took me about three weeks because there was a lot of work at the back of the property and high up on the side elevations.  Here is the finished job showing all the woodwork repaired  and a glossy look on the new plasterwork.  Notice the stonework was also painted after I had 'sealed' it first.

This story occurred over 30 years ago and I am sure the owner and his wife have departed to pastures new by now.  I was interested to see recently that this same house was for sale and advertised in our local newspaper.  I very much doubt whether my handy work would have lasted that long but it did look exactly the same as when I finished it. You never know - it may have lasted! Could it I wonder? Nay, it probably had been repainted two or three times I would think.

I'm Over 30 Feet Up And My Ladder Is Slipping! OMG

Here is my good old faithful triple extension ladder I used for my painting and decorating work.  See the wheels at the top?  If I wanted to hoist the ladder up further I would simply wheel it up the wall and in this way I could get it up very high without damaging the painting area. Over the years my arms and legs became very strong with moving the ladder all day long and climbing it endlessly - no wonder my hip wore out and well done the other one for surviving so long.

(Like the biceps? Now look, this is not a photoshop job either LOL)

I would never go up a ladder unless I knew it was completely safe and in later years I fitted special rubber swivel feet with a large surface area to give a lot of grip and stability.  Loads of painters and window cleaners who saw it were interested and wanted a set and I sent a lot of chaps to the ladder shop to buy some.  I was a bit slow there wasn't I?  I should have asked the shop for some commission. I could have made a fortune.

 (How's that for increased grip?)

In my early days before I fitted the swivel feet I was painting the walls of a large house with exterior brilliant white Weathershield.  This house included a chimney, also requiring painting, and it's top was about 40 feet above the ground - Oh Lawdy Me! Another fine mess I got myself into LOL - might be easier walking on water.  The back of the chimney was to be reached using my roof ladder.  Here it is - now in my garage and not used for a few years and serving very nicely to help to store some of my junk.

Back to the job.

I had to carry this long roof ladder up my ladder and get the wheels onto the roof so I could push it up the tiles until it reached the top. Then I had to turn it over and pull it down the roof until I met resistance - it was now hooked over the tile ridge and ready for me to board.  I had to make sure my ladder reached higher than the roof ladder so I could climb onto it from my ladder, carefully remembering which foot went where so I could do the reverse when I came down. We couldn't have me making a 999 call to the Fire Brigade to get me down, could we?  Of course I couldn't anyway because this occurred long before we had mobile cell phones.  Oh, yes, I had to carry some paint and a roller up as well and use a special bucket which hooked onto the normal ladder or roof ladder. It all sounds like a Buster Keaton movie doesn't it?  Well, that was the plan. On this particular occasion I was addressing the outside of the chimney and I was about 35 feet up and my ladder was fully extended.  It was a beautiful day, as I remember and I had just cut in all the top brush painting and was about to use the roller. I had my roller pole all ready and I happened to glance at the ladder wheels and got the shock of my life!!  The wheels were slowly turning . . . . . . . . .  and turning in a . . . . . . help! . . . . . . . in a downward direction. "OMG!" I said to myself, and I had not even got a parachute with me!  I thought it could be either that the ladder was sinking or, worst case scenario, the base might be slipping outwards, away from the house.  I was worried to say the least!   I had to move very, very gently because I feared the latter was the case and if so the wheels would accelerate at a rate I would not appreciate, causing me to travel rapidly in a southerly direction. "Don't panic!", I said to myself.  I left paint in the bucket on my ladder hook and ever so slowly I descended and got down safely.  I was relieved to find the ladder had simply sunk about 6 inches into some soft ground, which actually could still have been dangerous.  Fortunately both sides had sunk equally because if they had not the whole thing might have tipped sideways in which case, "Bye Bye Eddie! - hope you have a soft landing!".  I suppose I should have realised before I went up the ladder it had been raining quite hard recently and the ground was quite soft.  After a while I regained composure and found some wood planks which I put under the rungs to stop it slipping further.  I jumped up and down on the bottom rung to test it and the ladder did not sink further so I ascended 'Jacob's Ladder' as I affectionately called my ladder and got on with the job, fortunately with no further mishaps.

The house in question was owned by a GP and his wife and my darling sister, Maggie May of Nuts In May,  had recommended my services to them at her church.  They had a rather interesting story because the gentleman some years previously had a serious back complaint and had visited a well known Christian Healer called Ian Andrews at a special healing service.  Ian had prayed for healing and the doctor's back was healed but he did have the occasional twinge now and then. I had already at that time some interesting healing tapes by Ian Andrews and the doctor and I discussed these sometimes during various coffee breaks.

I suppose if Newton's Law had chosen to propel me quickly in a southerly direction Ian Andrews might have come to my rescue LOL. My, I've met some interesting characters, haven't I?

The Day They Raised The Roof

I am still on the subject of Painting and Decorating, and will remain so for some time, because I have many stories, dredged from my cerebral hemispheres, which are well worth telling.

This story goes way back to my first sojourn with the trade; long before I met Chris. It was during the early 80s, 1982 to be precise, the year of  The Falkland's War with Argentina, when unemployment here was rife, exceeding three million. Until recently I had been one of them after our company was unceremoniously closed due to cheap and nasty foreign imports.  This was so typical of what was happening across our manufacturing industry and it was the beginning of the demise of many of UK's famous engineering names when company after company was closed down.  Our government did not seem to mind too much and they tried to steer people into service industries which they thought was the answer to our future prosperity - the short sighted fools!  We are still suffering today due to their total mismanagement of our faltering industry and economy.  I had lost my job in middle management and frankly had given up on the job market front after 200 rejections.  I remember getting so fed up with not even getting a single response to any of my applications I telephoned one company and said that since I had not received a reply from them I was assuming no news was good news and therefore I had got the job and what time would they like me to start working on Monday, 8.30 or perhaps 9.00am.  They were highly embarrassed and I received a "No" letter the very next day, delivered by hand. Eventually I decided to work for myself - at least I could not make myself redundant, so I chose to work in something I enjoyed and in which I was very competent - I was always good at DIY and decided to try it.  At the time people were very cruel about the unemployment situation, saying catty remarks like, "I know how to cure the three million unemployed - send them all to the Falklands!".  I almost came to blows a few times with characters saying things like that because I understood what it was like to lose one's job, with a young wife and family, and I had, and still have, every sympathy for decent and honest folk losing their jobs through no fault of their own.  Of course I have no sympathy for scroungers - that is different.

Anyway, enough of all that!  I have a very amusing story for you and it centred on the owners of a local Post Office when they planned to move his elderly mother from her home in London to Bristol so they could look after her.  The house they bought was just four houses up the road from the Post Office, the proprietors who owned and lived in accomodation over their shop.  I imagine they had arranged the sale of his mother's house to finance her new house.  I had placed a small advertisement in a local newspaper and a few days later and I was delighted to receive a phone call asking me if I would view a job and provide a quotation for painting and decoration the entire interior and all the external paintwork. It was a huge job and I quoted as requested and to add to the list they wanted also someone to paint the outside woodwork of the Post Office.  I left them with the quotation and the next week they asked if I would mind sharing the work because they had a very tight time table and there was too much for one person to achieve the deadline.  I did not mind at all so two weeks later I set off with my ladder and equipment - I was doing the external paintwork.

When I arrived I was amazed!  There was a chap installing a kitchen and he seemed to be doing all the co-ordinating, if you could call it that.  There was absolute chaos prevailing everywhere.  Two guys were doing the internal painting and decorating and there was also an electrician and a plumber. We all seemed to get on OK but we did get in each other's way a lot - in fact on occasions we literally fell over each other.  There was a huge clash between me and the internal painters because whenever I opened a sash window from the outside they moaned I had spoilt their paintwork and whenever I completed my painting of windows a grubby pair of hands invariably opened the window from the inside and ruined my work, particularly new putty work. Tempers flared on occasions and the kitchen fitter, being by far the worst culprit, constantly caused copious amounts of sawdust to fly from his work by the bucket load all over the internal decorators' new paintwork, causing them to utter long phrases in very strong language which was certainly not in "The Queen's English" and invariably punctuated with a generous supply of adjectives, not appearing in any recognised or authorised dictionary.  His response was usually just two words illustrated by two fingers! which almost caused a serious fight on several occasions.

Prior to starting my self employment I was receiving unemployment benefit, known as 'being on the dole', but because I had started self employment work I signed off.  During my visit I was amazed to see three people I knew queuing for their unemployment benefit (dole money) . . . . . and yes, you've guessed it, they were non other than our two internal painters AND the kitchen fitter.  When they saw me they gestured me to 'keep mum' about it so they did not get into trouble.  I duly obliged.

After a frustrating week all the upstairs work was done and I must say the chaps had made a lovely job of the internal decorations.  I made good progress also and after a few more days we all had finished with the exception of the kitchen fitter who seemed to be making a big meal of the job.

But what should we see that very afternoon?  A fellow called round to work in the roof and his job was to, you're not going to believe this, jack up the roof because it was sagging.  Stone the timbers!!!  What a time to do that!!!  Who the hell arranged the work sequence - it was a disaster!!  He went into the roof and jacked it up, inserting extra supports to straighten the sagging roof.  It creaked and it groaned and outside we could actually see the ridge moving upwards.  Surely this should have been done first!!  We were all horrified, including the owners, because all the decorations were ruined 3 inches from ceiling down the walls and the ceilings and top of the walls were cracked.  The owners 'did their nuts', as we say, because time was at a premium and his mother was due to move in early next week - it all had to be ready for her.  We all put our heads together and came up with a solution and that was to add plaster coving to cover the damage and to repair the ceiling cracks. The decorators rubbed their hands with glee because they would earn extra money for the additional work and repairs. Adding the coving worked and it all looked fine a few days later. By now I was working at the Post Office but I popped round regularly to see how things were progressing.  Once I arrived to see the mother's entrance to her new home. In my mind I was humming Handel's "The Arrival Of The Queen Of Sheba". We were all expecting to hear sounds of appreciation and see big smiles but . . . . . . instead she flew into a violent rage, saying she did not like the house, did not like the decorations, did not like the 'small' rooms, did not like the kitchen or the bathroom or the garden and she did not like any of us.  She demanded to be taken back to her house in London.  Methinks the lady did protest too much LOL.  Hell certainly did not have fury like this woman's scorn.  I felt really sorry for the Post Office proprietors.

I am not sure how it all panned out because that was our last day.  I often wondered but never plucked up the courage to see the Post Office proprietor to ask him but I sometimes think about it and have a chuckle.  I also often wonder what became of my dubious work colleagues whose names escape me after 29 years, and whether they were ever caught by the authorities for falsely claiming unemployment benefit, Shhh!.


I'd like to invite my wonderful followers and readers to a virtual Labor Day BBQ  over at my dear friend, Karen G.'s blog. It starts now and will continue through the 3 day weekend. Why not visit  and meet some new bloggers and get a bunch of new followers. Oh, and don't forget to take some BBQ treats along with you. Don't miss it!

Confused Stan Gets The Cheque Wrong . . . . and Wrong . . . . and Wrong

Chris and I had been working for a dear old gentleman called Stan. He was in his early 90s and was very pleasant and loved our company, which he had for several days while we decorated his kitchen and hall.  It was a complete paint and wall papering job and I hope it brightened up his life.

I remember Stan well because he loved discussing theology, which is an interest of mine, and although he went to church regularly he had difficulty fully believing the whole New Testament, let alone the Old Testament.  He was searching for proof in secular fields and said he would be a full believer if he could find irrefutable evidence. I don't envy his job because I suspect none exist outside The Bible. As I write this short story, I do hope Stan found the answer to his doubts.  Anyway, we completed the job, he was satisfied, and it was time for payment.

Chris and I were particularly lucky because in the 15 years we worked together we never once had a problem with a payment - they all paid 'on the nail', even the lottery winners.  We presented the invoice to Stan and the amount was for £813.  He pulled out his chequebook and wrote a cheque and, bless his heart, the amount was £8.13 LOL.  We pointed out that although we were highly competitive we would soon starve.  He roared with laughter when he saw his mistake and promptly wrote another cheque, this time for £8,130.  Goodness!! our boat had really come in!!!  We laughed and laughed and pointed out that this was extremely generous of him but we did not intend buting a villa in the Maldives this year or purchase a cabin cruiser.  He roared with laughter again when we pointed out his mistake and promptly wrote out another cheque for £813 and handed it to us.

"Thank you, Stan", we said, "but hang on a minute, there is another mistake!"  By now tears of laughter were rolling down our faces because we discovered he dated it with last year's date. "Oh! Lawdy me!" - poor chap!

He handed over the book and asked Chris to write it. With the correct amount and date we thanked him and bade him goodbye.  And that was the last I saw of him but I heard six months later he had died.

We got quite close to several of our elderly customers and we were always sad when they departed, but I shall always remember Stan for his discussions and his cheques.

Working For Some Strange Lottery Winners

Yes, you read correctly!  Chris and I once worked for a very weird couple who had the good fortune to win £5.7 million. Let us call them Mr and Mrs Y, partly because I keep asking myself, "Why oh why of all people did fate dictate these two should win?  This was a huge win 15 years ago and the trouble was that this couple were completely incapable of dealing with it.  Prior to their new found wealth they had both worked as cleaners for a large factory and they were so hard up they actually borrowed money from a friend to pay their gas bill.  Then suddenly, whoosh! . . . . a cool £5.7 million.  They actually bought the friend a small flat in gratitude and at least I give them credit for this rather rare act of decency.

Whereas most of us would try to avoid making a complete lifestyle change if we were fortunate to win a large sum of money, these two went out of their way to change every single facet of their lives, almost immediately.  The first thing they did was to buy a top of range Mercedes car but since neither could drive they persuaded her brother to chuck in his good full time job so he could be their full time chauffeur.  The silly man accepted and today lives to regret this decision. He was bored to tears for most of the day because he was not required to drive them often and there are only so many times you can clean and valet the car.  So he just stood around for most of the time, awaiting instructions  - poor thing.

After a few false housing starts where they always succeeded in upsetting neighbours with their unreasonable behaviour, they bought a big isolated house - much too big - there were only two of them in a 20 bedroom house which we thought was ridiculous.  Imagine it! All the family grown up!  Grandchildren grown up!  No friends! No parties!  They were incapable of entertaining guests!  Just them there and all alone in this huge house. Then they proceeded to have the whole thing decorated, a new roof, new wooden windows throughout, extensive garden alterations and installation of a gymnasium, which they never used.  They chose to renew the roof during the winter and, surprise, surprise, rain water came flooding inside, ruining existing plaster coving and decorations to this lovely grade two listed building.  Then we noticed that a taxi proprietor was actually commissioned to replace the roof. They also employed a gardener to cut down thirty beautiful trees, once providing an elegant lining to both sides of their drive. They had two tennis courts, never used, and their total interest in the garden appeared to be starting a vegetable garden, growing runner beans, peas and potatoes.  We had to laugh because these vegetables are so cheap in supermarkets that even I don't bother to grow anything these days. They had a wonderful opportunity to do something interesting to develop their lives, like learning to drive and attending courses which might later provide interesting hobbies and some purpose in their lives, and perhaps to use their wealth to help people.  I, for example, would learn to fly small propeller aircraft and perhaps get involved in a gliding club, and get involved in charity work.  Instead they seemed totally preoccupied with security even though there was a large electrically operated wrought iron gate as the only way in.  How on earth are the unsavoury characters suppose to get in? Grappling hooks!  Parachutes! . . . . and how do they imagine they are going to get out with all their tatty belongings, even if they had any commercial value?  There were CT cameras all over the place - blooming heck, the place was surrounded by a 20ft high stone wall.  Who needs all that security?  We were once totally baffled at the response we got from Mr Y when we knocked on the back door.  We were greeted with a raised clenched fist about to strike us - perhaps he thought we were burglars and perhaps he requires the services of SpecSavers.  He displayed equally totally weird behaviour many times and it was difficult to get any reasonable conversation out of any of them, except the brother.

Mr and Mrs Y were virtual prisoners inside their own home and their 20 acres of land.  They had absolutely no sense of humour and he rapidly became addicted to horse racing and started telephone betting to the bookies, heavily.  He began losing large amounts of money - one afternoon he lost £250,000, would you believe?  £250,000! my word, that could help a few people, couldn't it?  This betting we thought was very paradoxical because during our first meeting with them they openly stated they intended never to help any of their grown up children financially - none of them got a single penny.  Truly amazing!  They fell out with the bank, then another bank.  Then they fell out with the roofer/taxi entrepreneur.  Then the cleaners, then the gardeners . . . . . . an so on.  Not very nice people and they preferred to lose money on horses rather than help their own kids.  The mind boggles.

Chris and I were invited to quote for the decorative work plus painting the new wooden windows. This was a large job and we had to re-schedule some of our regular work to accommodate it.  Our first project was to decorate the 'Wedgewood Room' - they had some plaster Wedgwood designs on the walls and we were to paint the rest of the room.  Honestly it looked dreadful! Not our painting, but the overall effect which looked sheer tat.  Next was the 'Italian Room', of equal ill taste and providing a very cheap and nasty effect. And so we worked gradually through the rooms and then started the windows. 

They did go abroad for a week and brought back some statues for the garden - all utter tat!  Who wants Grecian gods and goddesses in their garden?  First, there was the armless Aphrodite showing all she had, except her arms.  Funny this Grecian female is always denied arms - anyone know why? Then they had Apollo in all his glory, including arms and showing us his 'credentials'.  Here he is, just like the statue they bought.

One evening Chris and I played a little joke.  We placed a breathing mask over Apollo's important little place. Well we didn't want to see the cats embarrassed. did we? The mask fitted perfectly!  Next morning we were greeted by two stony faces - obviously not amused.  Honestly, these two had no sense of humour whatsoever.  From that day on their attitude was cool towards us and things cooled further when they asked us if we could devote a year to them to decorate the entire house.  We had to decline because we pointed out to them we had other customers and work was already scheduled.  We explained we could not risk losing our existing customers but could return when we were free and do their work in stages.  They did not like it and cooled off completely.  We walked away after completing the next phase.  It was the same with the builder - they wanted to take him over too but he declined and left quickly. 

What became of them?  A carpet fitter friend we know said they have separated - he has gambled away ALL his share and lives in a house in which we would not want to live - in total squalor.  She has moved three times after selling the mansion, each time upsetting neighbours. Now in my book these people were privilaged individuals to have been awarded so much money - they had a duty and a responsibility to themselves and to others to make the most of it, and they blew it! - in more ways than one. They could have helped a few people and their children and they didn't!  I think when they end up 'upstairs' they may face questions about this.

And what about the brother/chauffeur?  Poor chap lost his job and he could not return to it - we are not sure what happened to him.  We liked him and do hope he managed to repair his life.

What strange people we met during our Painting and Decorating days - and I have some more for you..

Eddie, Help! I'm Stuck! There's No Toilet Paper!!

With a title like this - it can only be a continuation of my Painting and Decorating experiences.  The gentleman uttering these panic stricken-words, "Eddie, help! I'm stuck! There's no toilet paper!" was Ron, who is a very large man who sometimes used to help Chris and I with our decorating jobs.  I have no photo of him so I am using this elephant because:
a) It is large like him.
b) He is keeping his trunk crossed that Eddie can find him some toilet paper.
c) An elephant never forgets so it is to remind us always to have sufficient toilet paper with us at all times so we don't make an ass of ourselves.

Ron is a retired British Rail engineer and he loved being with us on our decorating ventures. He loved the work, the comradeship, the leg pulling and general excitement - he got a real buzz from it all.  He was extremely enthusiastic with a brush and a roller, so much so we could let him loose on just a few jobs where the resultant mess on the floor was not too much of an issue, being at pre-carpeting stage.  He went at his work with such gusto that paint was sprayed everywhere in addition to the surface on which he was working. His hair, face and work clothes were rapidly covered, in whatever paint he was using, invariably brilliant white ceiling paint, and he very often looked like we had somehow used him as a brush because his hair stood on end, saturated in paint, often resembling a toilet brush.  I have never seen a paint roller move so fast over the ceiling and whereas Chris and I always loaded the roller with paint to apply a thick coat of emulsion with a slow and deliberate roller action, Ron's technique was something to behold. He loaded the roller from the tray, lifted the dripping roller to the ceiling and rapidly whizzed the roller squeezing it hard and covering the same area time and time again so very little paint actually stuck to the ceiling, yet paint was sprayed in copious amounts everywhere else. He was rapidly covered from head to toe. He then waited for the paint to dry (but not long enough) and proceeded to apply a second coat with equal abandon.  We did not have the heart to 'have a go at him' but explained our technique to him time and time again with little or no apparent success.  On one occasion he made a very good job applying a coat of coloured acrylic eggshell to a bathroom wall and when we complimented him on his success he immediately got his roller out and went hell for leather over the same wall and promptly ruined it.

Anyway on this occasion Ron was helping us to prepare some flats for a good customer of mine and Chris and I were a bit pushed so we asked Fred for some assistance.  It was late, Chris had gone home, and Ron and I were just finishing something off before Ron 'took short' and headed off to the toilet.  After a while I heard a rather embarrassed voice saying, "Eddie, I'm in a spot of bother here! There is no toilet paper! Can you find any out there?".  It is on such occasions that if anyone says that to us we acquire a sudden sense of superiority LOL.  They are completely at our mercy - I am sure we have all been in that situation. I replied, smiling to myself,  "Sorry Ron, looks as though you're in trouble in there 'cause there is nothing out here and the shops are all shut and we are miles from anywhere!".  "God, what do I do?", grumbled Ron.  I said I would have a good look round and after a while I shouted. "I have some good news and some bad news!  First the good news, I have found some newspapers.  Would you like 'The Financial Times' or 'The Guardian'"  "I don't care! Either, Eddie, pass them both and what's the bad news?"  "The print is smudged on both and there's not much of it!".  Anyway I handed them through the door and left him to it. He seemed slightly irritated when I asked him if he'd managed to do the crossword - then I heard a rustling of paper. Smiling to myself, after a few minutes I heard some swearing, culminating with Ron complaining, "Hell! my finger's gone through and there's print everywhere!".  "Hang on a minute!" I said, trying not to laugh, "I'll have another look . . . . . wait I've found something else!  Yes, I have some good news and some bad news for you!  First the good news.  I've found some wallpaper.  Now the bad news, it's ready pasted!". "Oh Hell!"

That did the trick, eventually, as a temporary measure I would imagine.
Anyway the moral of the story was that from that day onwards we always made sure we had a couple of rolls with us at all times.

Ron was, and is, a great character and I shall be recalling some other funny experiences when we shared his delightful company.

An Unlikely Cure For Sciatica - Falling Out Of A Skip

I had been suffering from sciatica for years. The pain, emanating from my lower back and travelling down my right leg, invariably occurred when I mowed the lawn. It must have been something to do with the way I stood and bent slightly. Sometimes the pain was severe and sometimes it was not there at all. 

I am continuing my stories of my painting and decorating days.  My first two stories described two very unusual and weird characters and I am pleased they seem to have amused you. Last week I said I would write about my first encounter with Miss C.  I will do so next time but to have a break from her today another amusing story springs to mind. 

Chris and I were asked to remove a large hedge and erect a fence.  We were 'Jacks Of All Trades' so we did not mind doing something a little different from Painting and Decorating.  In fact the previous year for these customers we converted a flat garage roof to a pitched tiled roof.  Our customers were delighted with the roof, I am pleased to say.

This time we had to remove a large amount of vegetation so we hired a large skip and because their house was at the end of a Cull-De-Sac we asked the driver to unload the skip right at the end as near to the pavement as possible.  The problem was that there was rampant vegetation from another overgrown hedge in 'no-man's land' and this almost obliterated our view of the curb.  Looking closer through the vegetation the skip was about a foot from the curb which was OK so it was unloaded there.

That's my boy!! Park it by the bushes at the end of the Cull-De-Sac. 

(Actually our skip was much bigger than this one.)

 Hey, and Mr Skip! Listen! Whatever you do, don't do this!!!

Chris and I started work and the hedge was soon half demolished and we started to load the skip. We had to condense the branches as much as possible thus making the most of the volume available to us, and we did this by climbing into the skip and jumping up and down on the hedge cuttings.  Things were proceeding quite nicely - we managed to compress the branches a lot, so it looked as though we would get it all in the skip.

Then the daughter arrived in her RAVA car, an expensive 4x4, and boy, she was 'Rava' nice herself - I suppose she might have been about 30 and both Chris and I could tell she 'turned heads' LOL. Like her car we had imagined she might be rather expensive 'to run' and we imagined she would not be satisfied with half a pint of  chandy.  We had met Mrs Lush, as I shall call her, several times and she always made us a nice cup of tea.  Well on this occasion I was distracted because I was having a 'little peep' at her while I was jumping up and down, and boy, I was suddenly aware that it was taking much longer than I expected to make contact with the hedge cuttings.  I was then aware of falling into a hedge and making a hard landing on the pavement curb stone.  I had landed on my coccyx with a resounding "bump".  Newton's Law can be quite unkind sometimes, paticularly since I am a fairly big chap and weigh about 15 stones (210 lbs).  I know, I know, I should be on a diet but it is all these wonderful foodie blogs I visit - I stand no chance! Anyway, back to the story,  I was aware of the daughter shouting to Chris with concern in her voice, "Quick Chris, Eddie's disappeared into the bushes and suddenly vanished! He was jumping up and down in the skip and now he's gone!"  (I'm roaring with laughter as I write this - she must have thought I was a complete 'nutter'. LOL). "Get on with the story, Eddie!" "ok"

Surprisingly I did not feel too bad, considering I must have fallen at least 3-4 feet and landed very hard on my . . . er . . . . posterior. Really I should by rights have sustained a nasty injury, but I was extremely lucky.  Chris and the mother rushed over to investigate where I was - they could not see me at this stage!!  Eventually they found me and asked if I was alright. I could move my legs, I felt a bit bruised but managed to crawl out sideways on my hands and knees.  The mother said, "You look as though you have been pulled through a hedge backwards!" and, being a qualified nurse, she insisted I pulled my trousers down so she could see the extent of my injuries. She pronounced that I had a few cuts, which she cleaned and plastered.  I was bruised as well but fortunately managed to stand up and walk about normally. She asked me what had happened and, laughing, I said I was admiring her daughter and missed the front of the skip and landed on my backside!  "That will learn you!", she said, wagging her finger at me. We were all laughing our heads of, including Mrs Lush when she found out I was OK and promptly made me a cup of tea.  I said, "Thank you! The lengths I have to go to to get a cup of tea!" She fell about laughing when she learned the full extent of the story and then. . . . she winked at me!

Well, this will confound all medical theory because from that day to this I have NEVER had a re-occurrence of sciatica.  I guess I was lucky - it must have knocked something back in place thus relieving compression on the sciatic nerve - a sort of mega chiropractor treatment.  I think I might have got the injury years before when I was cross country running.  I jumped over a gate but my leading right foot caught the top and I crashed to the ground.  The jarring might have knocked something out of place. However, I would not recommend going to all these lengths of falling out of a skip as a cure LOL.

Next time we return to our first encounter with Miss C.

Decorating For A Very Weird Miss - Have To Read It To Believe It

 I haven't got a photo of me 'tearing my hair out', which would be entirely appropriate for this post, so I am using this to illustrate my Painting and Decorating stories. I am working on the photo LOL.

Welcome to part two of Down Memory Lane.
Last time I started recalling some of my hilarious Painting and Decorating experiences. Very frustrating at the time but they always get a laugh and Chris and I shall always remember them. Last week we met a very weird regional bank manager who was seeking perfection in this very imperfect world.  Since that post a flood of other experiences have surfaced from my aging memory banks of my cerebellum, so I thought I had better chronicle them before I lose many more grey matter cells.  For those who missed last week if you want a laugh have a look see, but come back to this after because this character is something else. LOL

This time I am introducing a lady who was in her mid 70s when we worked for her on three occasions. She is a rather small and fragile lady, very intelligent and she possesses some very strange mannerisms. She speaks with a very pronounced and rather posh British accent, so you can imagine what she sounds like when you get to the dialogue. She was a typical boffin and worked for some sort of government office and had a very good job we imagined plus a good pension. She is still alive and I see her sometimes in my local travels but I always try to avoid her if I can because, boy, she just talks the hind legs off a donkey and once she 'grabs' you  it is VERY difficult to get away from her.  I suppose she must be 85 now.  I shall call her Miss C. She is a spinster and a retired scientific geographer . . . . . and she is absolutely weird . . . . it is totally understandable why she was and always has been . . . .  a Miss. She is quite a character and deserves two posts I think.  First, I am recalling our last job Chris and I did for her about 10 years ago.  I shall post our first encounter next time.

By this time we knew Miss C quite well and were used to her rather strange behaviour. This time our objective was to decorate her lounge/diner and, boy, what a logistics operation that turned out to be. Our initial brief was to paint her windows, comprising two outward openers and a vent opener with the specific request NOT to open the windows and to use paint which had no odour whatsoever, since her sinuses might be affected adversely. LOL.  I looked at Chris and we tried hard not to laugh.  I said this might present a problem because not all the window surfaces would be painted if we did as she asked.  She replied that she NEVER opened the windows since she did not like fresh air as it adversely affected her lungs and it would be OK if we painted round the surfaces.  Chris said the windows might become stuck if we did that to which she replied that this did not matter as they would NEVER be opened again. We told her that modern day paints were relatively odour free and we usually did an undercoat and a top coat. "Oh don't do that!", she said, "I could not bear the smell of paint for two days instead of one! Wait until I go out to the shops and could one of you paint using one coat gloss while the other follows with my hair drier to make it dry quicker?"  We knew from past experience it was futile to argue with her and much as we detested using that awful one coat gloss paint since it is absolutely no good at all, we agreed. The net curtains were dreadful.  I think they had been there unwashed since she moved in sometime during the1970s.

Now to part 2 of the brief!!  She requested that since there was so many books and belongings in both rooms, could we decorate in two halves so it would be easier to move things about.  We had to wallpaper as well as paint the woodwork and we could see it was going to be a logistical nightmare. We looked around and thought, what a load of junk!!  In fact there were books and scientific papers scattered all over the place, including a huge print out of raw data she used for her Ph.D in the 60's. This was dated from the early days of main frame computers.  Boy, it was still there on the floor, two foot high and gathering dust. I bet she never even looks at it.

We started in the dining area and managed to clear all the books and the dust was dreadful. We thoroughly cleaned everything and washed it all down and when it had dried we started rubbing down the woodwork, as we normally do, to provide a good 'key' for the paint. "What ARE you doing? You are creating loads of dust which is affecting my sinuses!". We answered that we were just giving it a light rub down and we would vacuum it as soon as we have finished. "Kindly STOP this NOW! I cannot breathe!".  I pointed out that we had dealt with a vast amount of dust when cleaning the books and book case.  "That is different!", she said, "that is MY dust which is OK but I cannot tolerate YOUR dust!".

I whispered to Chris, "Boy, what the hell have we got here!"
He said, "Put the kettle on Miss C and while you are doing it we shall vacuum up and the dust will be gone."

"Boy, what the heck do we do now?" we thought.

We asked her if she had any shopping to do and she said, "Yes". We said, "Why don't you do it NOW so we can get this over and done with?"   She said, "Yes, on the proviso that one of you uses my hair drier to make that invasive odour dry more quickly!  It is repugnant and irritating to my eyes, nose and throat.  I shall have to dose myself with throat lozenges."

"Should I open the window to let some more air in? That might dilute the smell for you . . . . and while we are at it we could paint all the window surfaces for you! They should be dry by morning!", I said.

"I am declining your suggestion on two counts", she replied, " First there would be a security problem with windows being open all night, and second as I mentioned before I do not like fresh air!"

"But you have been outside sitting in it for 2 hours this afternoon", I said, "Remember, you actually returned to say you felt better!"

"Now look - I like fresh air when I want and I also dislike fresh air when I want - kindly acceded to my wishes and directives!"

We thought, "Why doesn't she talk properly?" . . . . and, "Which century does she spring from?". . . . . but I still managed to reply, "Yes Miss C. We shall always strive to acquiesce!" (There! I know a few big words too! you silly bovine creature! LOL)

All through the job it was like banging our heads against a brick wall. This type of conversation continued, on and off, for days and the job actually took us three times as long as it should have to complete.  She wasn't cantankerous all the time, but she did waste a lot of our time as well because she just loved debating issues of the day, particularly scientific ones, and several times she kept us from our work for hours.  Honest we thought sometimes it would be quicker to read "The decline and fall of the Roman Empire" than to have coffee with her. She invited us to call her Hilary, which we did, but we had to be firm with her a few times about getting back to work.  Deep down she was quite a likeable person who always said she wanted to be invited onto the captain's table when she was on her twice yearly Mediterranean Cruises.  She never succeeded - I wonder why.

All things considered we were very pleased when the job was finished . . . . and yes, the windows were painted with the windows shut!  Oh! who cares!! I am sure no-one will ever know!  A new inhabitant would have them 'whipped out' and fit new UPVc double glazed replacements - hopefully buying through me!  Yes, I am an agent for a local company.

I'll explain some more of her funny antics and hang ups next time.

Down Memory Lane - My Painting and Decorating Days

Hi folks!!

A typical balancing act on a ladder!!

I ran my own Painting & Decorating business for 15 years and met quite a number of weird customers and consequently I have some funny stories. I keep saying I will chronicle some Ambulance stories from my later experiences . . . . and I will! . . . . but these will follow later.  Talking about following, I welcome all my new followers from various Blog Hops . . . and of course I also welcome my existing friends.  Talking of friends I stumbled on a very funny door mat when I was delivering my son's papers the other day - he sometimes is not able to do it!! . . . or won't LOL.  The doormat said, well it didn't actually say it, but it read,

Friends always welcome. Relations by appointment only

Well, it has a ring of truth in it, doesn't it?  But Eddie, you might be thinking, stop digressing and get on with the story!!!!

OK.  I worked with my friend Chris for the 15 years, on most jobs and on this particular occasion we started working for a Regional Bank Manager (Did I hear some "Boooos"?).  This job was a recommendation by a humble Branch Manager, one of his subordinates, who was highly pleased with the work we did for him and his wife.  Mr X, as I shall call him, was something else. (Funny all Mr X's seem a bit weird in my experience.) Anyway, the job was to decorate his landing, hall and stairwell, plus his front room.  He took us to one side right at the start and said he expected perfection and rarely got it, and would we guarantee that he would be 100% satisfied.. A bit of a tall order we thought but we suggested he would be pleased because we worked to a high standard. He said, "Come and look at this!", and highlighted a new wooden conservatory which he had recent had installed.  He said he was very dissatisfied with the installation and pointed at a roof beam, remarking that the joints were not very good and that he could see two pieces of wood instead of one.  I looked at Chris and he raised his eyebrows in unison with mine.  I could not help replying that there were actually two pieces of wood in that joint and it looked perfect to me.  Chris nodded in agreement. Disgruntled he said, "Well, it's not good enough!".

Anyway we proceeded to decorate the landing and he seemed satisfied with the standard of our preparation of the woodwork, the undercoating and gloss work, which took us a couple of days.

Next day we started papering and completed the first two quite complicated drops, involving ladders and scaffolding planks. Guess who worked aloft? You've got it!  We heard him cough behind us and he said, "Oh! dear, oh! dear, that will not do at all!".

We asked why.

He replied that he could see the join in the paper. Now we are pretty good wallpaper hangers and it looked OK to us but we obliged by adjusting it slightly.  Fortunately we were able to slide one drop a little to the left - ever so slightly and carefully.  

"I suppose that had better do!", he said, and seemed reluctantly satisfied with the remainder of our wall papering.

When we got to the lounge we had a lot of problems with him criticising our papering.  Honestly, it was a good job but this "psycho" seemed to belong on a different planet.  The fireplace wall was large, 30 feet by 8 feet high.  He said, "There are joins in the paper and I expected not to see any!  I wanted to see the pattern uninterrupted across the entire wall!".

I said the wall is very large and unfortunately we were unable to find ONE piece of paper large enough to do the entire wall . . . . and had we been able to, how did he suggest we might paste it and hang it!".

"Well, I want perfection!  I have a new house and what do I find?  No-one can do their job properly!  The plasterers made a real mess of things because some cracks appeared in the wall when it dried out.  Those idiots installing the conservatory were totally incompetent and . . . . . now you seem incapable of hanging paper to my satisfaction.  I expect perfection!"

I said, "Now look Mr X, I am afraid you will not get perfection this side of the grave  . . . . . but please rest assured the standard of our work is exceptional and that is why we obtain so many recommendations from satisfied customers."

This seemed to rock him a bit and he made a beeline for Chris and said, "You are not upset are you? I hope not . . . . . look into my eyes . . . . . look into my eyes . . . . . oh! I can see you are upset! . . . look into my eyes!"

The "weirdo", we thought in unison and tried hard to stop laughing.  We imagined him making people redundant at the bank and saying, "You are not upset are you? . . . . . look into my eyes! . . . look into my eyes"".  In fact if he wore a glass eye we might be tempted to look into that because, as the old bank manager jokes say, there may be a modicum of humanity in that one, unlike his natural one.

Anyway, eventually he seemed fairly pleased with it.  His wife was delighted and said to us when he was out, "Take no notice of him, he is a silly old fart!  He just loves to pick fault. It makes him happy!"

He paid us on the dot but we were very relieved to have him out of our hair.  We have never forgotten this experience and still have a laugh about it . . . . . often we say, "Look into my eyes! . . . you are not upset are you?".