[m i a o w] the cat

Have sent M, bouncing like a deranged labrador, off to Bunnings. Wandering the aisles of Bunnings is something that has taken, oh, about 2472 hours out of my life to date, however - yesterday was payday and he has gone, clutching the bankcard, for renovation supplies. Urgently needed renovation supplies. We are so close to being able to demand our $6000 back from the bank that it’s torturous. The front door badly needs a big bit of glass in it (although it has been nice, huddling under the sleeping bag pretending we’re in Hobart) and we rang around this morning getting quotes. They were all over $100. The horror. M went and poked around out the back and came inside to announce that we could do it for $30. Fingers crossed. I am v.tempted to fax the bank the relevant papers on Monday, in the knowledge that it will probably take them at least two weeks to get themselves organised, and we can spend those two weeks finishing the bits and pieces. The jury is still out on this one.

In other news, Old Manky has moved into the new palace - though she seems to find it hard to understand that I’m actually supposed to be working three days a week, and thus just can’t pop over for a visit. (Popping over inevitably entails at least two hours and scary $2 Shop teabags soaked in *gag* town water. Manky.) I think tomorrow will see me finally making the visit - the bottle shop is on the way, after all. Compared to what I’m supposed to be researching, the prospect of painting window frames for the next four days has a beautiful rosy glow.