All Systems Go!

Today, and this will thrill Andy on his day off, we are going to trawl the DIY establishments for wood flooring for the hallway. Yes! Despite a few non-starters, I have finally secured professional decorators to come in and redecorate the hall, stairs and landing! Words cannot express how excited I am, nor unimpressed Andy is.

'Hurrah!!!!' I say.
'Hmmmmm...' says Andy.

So the last few days have been littered with words like 'dado rail' and 'satin wood' and 'interlocking floorboards' and 'eau-de-nil.' And Andy going, 'Hmmmm....'

I went on the interwebbly to research wood flooring and got thoroughly confused by the HUGENESS of variety/style/colour/thickness/underlays etc etc. And the forums were awash with people commenting upon and rating the various types of flooring which was even more confusing because they were saying wildly different things about the same brand of flooring from 'It was brilliant' to 'it was rubbish.'

So I phoned the chap who is doing the job. He said,'Well, it's all a matter of personal choice, really. All I can say is the thicker the better.'

So a bit like butter on toast then.

And with that metaphor firmly ingrained on my arteries I plan to go into Homebase/Wickes and B 'n' Barbecue with my Tarot cards and read for advice from the spirit guides.

'Hmmmm...' says Andy.

I've got the wallpaper. It's got flowers on it. Of course. Because as you know, I adore flowers.

We've also got to get paint to go 'neath the dado rail that is being installed. Cor, fancy us with a dado rail!! All other materials are being provided by the decorator, so will cause minimal distress to people who find chosing paint stressful.

And finally, a joke...

'A chicken goes into a library. 'Bok,' it says to the librarian, so the librarian gives the chicken a book and away it goes.
The next day the chicken returns. 'Bok, bok, bok,' it says to the librarian, so the librarian gives the chicken three books and away the chicken goes.
On the third day, the chicken returns. 'Bok, bok, bok, bok, bok,' says the chicken. The Librarian hands over five books and the chicken leaves. The librarian thinks, 'This chicken is getting through a lot of books. I shall follow it and find out what it's doing with them.'
So the librarian follows the chicken to the home of a frog. The frog is lying in bed, a thermometer hanging from its mouth, clearly feeling unwell and confined to bed. The librarian watches as the chicken hands the books one by one to the frog. And as the chicken hands over each book, the frog looks at it and goes, 'Readit, readit, readit.'

I apologise if you realise what was going to happen half-way through the joke, but once I got typing I found I couldn't stop.