Hiya again
It’s been over seven weeks since I arrived at my new home — time passes very, very quickly when you’re busy. Still love being here, still feel it’s been the right thing for me to do, even though not all has been plain sailing just lately.
But I had a great birthday, celebrating with four different parties or people. Last Saturday, it was lunch with three ladies from “my” meditation group. Really lovely women and we had a wonderful time chatting and getting to know each other a bit better. We went to the “Piazza”, a beautiful, modern Italian restaurant on the northern dock of Oban harbour. Fantastic views and superb food. Very pleasant waitresses, too, most of them local, which is rare these days as most such posts are now filled with migrant workers from Poland.
The weather was so-so. No photos.
Sunday, I took another friend out to lunch at what must be the poshest place in town, the Manor House. He wanted to take me, but I wanted to take him because he's been so very, very helpful ever since the day I arrived, taking me shopping in his car (locally), cheering me up when I needed it, making very helpful suggestions on diy, bringing chocolate cake round for tea, etc. etc. etc.
The Sunday meal and venue was very pleasant indeed, if perhaps a bit on the staid side of things. The food was great, though, and service impeccable once I got past the almost unintelligible Polish-Scots accent of one of the girls. The weather was pretty rainy so I didn't take any photos.
Monday -- my actual birthday -- was a big one: "my" builder came in with a sander to sand down the beautiful (if cheapish) old parquet floor in my small room (the previous week he had put down a specially made piece of new flooring to fill the gap left by an old, doorless wardrobe I had asked him to knock out: it left a patch of old, ugly original floorboards underneath -- see one of my earlier posts). He got the cheapest rental sander from a guy “down the road”, and it was an absolute disaster: the dustbags broke and came off and there was a thick layer of dust all over everything in that little room by the time he was finished --
floor half an inch, and a solid layer of fine wood dust all over the newly-painted walls and ceiling.
It took me all afternoon to get rid of that dust, and almost “killed” my friend E.'s superb Dyson vacuum cleaner, and nearly maxed my little vacuum cleaner out (certainly filled the one dustbag I had brought with me in absolutely no time, and now I have the problem of sourcing replacement bags -- the ones available here don't fit. Did you know that there must be hundreds of different types of dustbags? Amazing. And frustrating because the one type you need is not available, ever.)I was not impressed... However, I was going to live with imperfections in the sanding job and I was delighted with the beautiful, silken feel of the floor — the pure beech wood that came up was just magnificent.
There was just this little problem of the colour difference between the old floor (pale gold) and the new (very milky coffee) ...
Having known about this and having asked around, I had bought some woodstain. It said on the tin it was for outside use, but it didn’t say it was for outside use only, and the man at the shop said it would be ok for me to use on a parquet floor. My builder was doubtful, telling me not to use it. But I gave it a try on a loose piece of wood and it looked ok, so I went ahead. That was the next day.
Before I continue my tale of woe, I want to remember the absolutely delightful evening I enjoyed with my new friend E.: she not only brought her Dyson over at a moment’s notice, she also baked me a birthday cake and brought that with her. It was a welcome opportunity for us all to take a break and have a cup of tea and a slice of cake.
So in the evening I invited E. out to dinner at the “Ee-Usk”, Oban’s nicest restaurant as far as I’m concerned. I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before: it’s next to the “Piazza” on the North Pier but with much the better view as there is nothing between it and the Sound of Mull/Oban Bay and the hilltops to the north. Superb food, always impeccably prepared and presented, and very pleasant staff. They just recently won a prestigious award, which I think is very well deserved. I could have stayed there all night. It was a gorgeous evening, too, very light and sunny and mild — perfect!
After the meal — bream with herb mashed potatoes, salad, half a portion of lemon cake, half a portion of panna cotta with red berries, glass of dry Spanish white wine — E. and I walked along the Esplanade and sat on some shallow steps that go down in the water. We had a very peaceful hour or so chatting and setting the world to right before we walked home again.
On Wednesday, I drove another new friend, R. up to Inverness and on to Dingwall for a medical appointment. I was happy to do this for a lovely friend with an ailment that prevents her from driving long distances. We get on really well, with lots of laughs and stories.
So Wednesday was a big day, away from home for almost twelve hours. Satisfying for having been able to do this — giving a little back where I’ve already been given so much. This was my fourth birthday treat, so to speak. I thoroughly enjoyed the drive up there — the scenery is spectacular, even in the rain. Forgot my camera, though, and as I was doing the driving, didn't actually have that many opportunities to take photos. Maybe next time...
Back to Tuesday, the day before, which is when I decided to stain the newly-sanded, pristine-looking wooden floor. I had felt nervous about it all night and wasn’t feeling very confident. If only I had listened to my heart, which told me to rub some very, very strong tea into the older, whiter wood to stain it roughly the colour of the newer wood before treating it with Danish Oil. But I didn’t. Serve me right and now I have a huge mess on my hands.
Well, a little over half-way through the job I was through the one tin I had bought, and the overlap where the brush had been twice was much darker than the rest, the whole thing looked uneven, with ugly brush marks, and it had a very sticky feel. That was just because the paint was still wet, or so I thought, anyhow.
I rushed back to the shop, bought another tin of the stuff and rushed back home to finish “staining” my floor. Then I left it to dry.
Well, a few days later, the floor is still sticky, it looks absolutely horrible, the feel of this plastic stuff is awful and I will just have to sand it all off again, or remove it with paint remover and wire wool.
Problem: I am absolutely maxed out with work, my Swiss friend Th. is coming on July 11, and before then a three-seater futon is due to arrive that will have to go into that room. Already a bookcase and a small table are standing in there that will also have to be shifted elsewhere while I try to take care of that floor. My builder/decorator, understandably, has refused to have anything to do with it...
Well, that’s my tale for now. It’s up and down, and once I get that floor sorted I’ll be smiling again. Just now I don’t really see when I can get down to it as I’ve got three paying jobs on hand that need my urgent attention.
Which is why I had better shut up and get back to work. ... :)
TTFN, Peace!
A Monday morning still life, sometime in summer 2008.
And my kitchen, not very good photos but the best I have just now:
This is my sitting room in its evening incarnation:
The wee sofa is only a two-seater but at least it doesn't take up all the space in this cosy room.
Yes, it's a real nineteen-sixties gas fire. It hangs squint on the wall and is really ugly. But I kind of like it. And it certainly pushes out a lot of heat, none of which goes up the chimney as is the case for most log-burning fires.
The artwork above the huge armchair is a lithograph by Lily Keller called Gri-gri. The door leads to my airing cupboard with an ancient, not very well-insulated immersion heater, which is where I dry virtually all my laundry.
Sometimes, fine dining occurs at my flat:
And I spend a lot of time reading in this lovely armchair. It's a nursing chair, actually, with a comfy tall back and a low seat -- just right for me.
Those of you who have been following this blog since I got to Oban will know that I had a wee mishap in the early days of staying here. I'm glad I pulled out a manky old built-in wardrobe that stood in the wrong corner and made the small bedroom look much smaller still. But the gap in the parquet flooring was pretty expensive to fill. Still, well worth the trouble:
Above is the new piece and the almost cream coloured, freshly sanded older parquet.
Sanding off the old varnish, then taking off the horrible gunk that I painted on, has given the lovely parquet floor a lot more character. I understand that this very type of flooring is making a comeback. Maybe I could now buy that replacement patch for less than nearly £300! But I wanted it then and I wanted the same type of floor. Should have gone for the bleached version, though, or taken out a few of the old tiles and dispersed the new ones randomly across the old floor. Ah, well, you live and learn...
The new thermoblinds make a HUGE difference. At last, this essentially unheated space warms up when the rest of the flat is being heated. 
And last, but not least, a glance at the shower cubicle. The weird structure on the left is a very useful narrow cupboard that holds all my toiletries, medicines and towels.
