So there I am in the garden shed this morning; just me and fifty or so LARGE spiders and where I am not in the least troubled by spiders, they didn't seem too enamoured of my presence in their abode. I think I might have inadvertently interrupted a meeting of the local branch of the Arachnid Union because the hairy little buggers were all out and marching in no time.
Anyway, my task, if I was to accept it, was to try and bring a semblance of order to this outpost of 'civilisation' and start the sort-an-pack necessary for our impending move.
Tipped in the nearest corner to the door was an assortment of decorating tools, a large assortment of decorating tools. Further in, the lawn mower with my golf bags and trolleys on top and further in still, a full height shelf unit weighed down under a plethora of redundant paint cans.
Fighting my way through paint cans that were new when Adam was a lad, I managed to create a substantial load for a tip run, reserve for the prospective new owners of our cottage the few tins of paint that actually match the colours in the house, ring fence the few cans we might use (yeah, likely I know) and box and pack enough decorating tools to start a small, but select, decor enterprise.
Why do we do it? Why, oh why, do we keep every pot of paint that has even a microbe of paint in it?
Is it going to be like this on the boat? Will we have a multitude of 'touch-up' paints, primers, rust treatments, wet-an-dry etc. And more importantly, is there a marine division of the Arachnid Union?