Not Dead, Still Painting

Am smelling of turpentine and covered in bites. Returned almost a week ago and now feel as if Melbourne was some kind of dream I had (whilst sleeping in a fridge). M was jubilant to have me back *grin* - he got v.lonely without me, surrounded by people who think The Simpsons suck and that a meal without meat isn't a meal. We had a lovely cinematic reunion on the station platform. We are still not in residence yet, but it won't be long. I am so sick of living out of a suitcase, I don't care if I have to wee in a bucket for the next fortnight. The house looks (besides the skirting board issue) absolutely transformed. Polished floorboards throughout, two bedrooms painted and a divine little deck with steps outside the back door. All that work, all on his ownsome, no wonder M was starting to get slightly wild-eyed (not to mention wild-haired).