Keep Calm and Carry On

Well, I'm leaving for Cardiff tomorrow. Which is firmly of the good.

It's been a madhouse. You know I mentioned (mentioned... OK, devoted an entire entry to it) the fact that my dad is demolishing parts of the house?

Well, last night we were treated to an evening of farce.

Oh yes.

I'm never doing DIY. Or if I am - I'm certainly not learning from him...

Right. So, he's plastering the ceiling. And it's not going well because our house was thrown up in the thirties to solve a housing crisis, so it isn't in the best of shape. The walls either side of the (now extinct) chimney breast aren't level with each other, because apparently they leveled them off after the chimney was in place.

So, he's plastering. And the long low string of obscenities looks like it's going to peter out... When he drops the bucket of plaster he was balancing on the ladder. It splashed all up the wall and over the carpet. I'm trying desperately not to laugh at this point - and my mother is trying to persuade me to flee the room with her... Meanwhile my father has turned a rather interesting shade of purple.

Right - well, he reascends the ladder with another bucket of plaster. Things continue fine until it's time to move the ladder. Does he take the bucket down before he moves it? No. Because that would be far too simple, wouldn't it?

So. He moves the stepladder across the carpet. However, the legs catch on something... Tipping this new bucket of plaster all over my father.

And I'm talking covered. The man is now plaster-pink.

I had to leave. I had to go somewhere and laugh so hard I thought I was going to piss myself. My mother followed.

And all this happened in the middle of Buffy. Thank the lord I taped it.