Sigh!! Here I sit on a Sunday morning as the sun rises, surrounded by chaos. The painters arrived by rope.
There was a strange noise on Friday afternoon as Biggles and I were quietly enjoying a siesta, he on the terrace, me nearby. I had to investigate, Biggles looked alarmed but said nothing - and then I realised a rope had descended straight onto the delicate hibiscus! I couldn't believe it! What idiot is going to throw a rope down without checking where it will land - think this blog update is going to turn into a rant, on behalf of Biggles and I, altho' to be honest Biggles has been most unfriendly, unruly, stressed out and we all need a quiet Sunday free of painters.
Anyway I carefully lifted the rope off the now damaged hibiscus and helpfully started to untangle the mess, all the while looking upwards - no heads appeared - and eventually I gave up and went inside. Ten minutes later there is an irate screech from you know who, and there stands a smiling painter! From then on things deteriorated rapidly - Biggles protested continuously at this intrusion and so I wheeled him indoors and around a corner where he couldn't see what was happening.
Next, move my husband's orchid collection to various tables around the apartment as another painter arrives, I don't remember now whether he came by the front door or also descended by rope. I was assured I need not move anything else, all would be protected, but eventually I decided all the furniture cushions must be moved, and luckily there are two accesses so I could swiftly move those items to our lounge area. Of course hubby was out that afternoon so the pleasure was all mine.
We had already had a week of constant buzzes from the street below, painters wanting access to the building, and no amount of telling them to leave the street door open had any effect whatsoever. Then they had demanded a key to the roof area, small part of which we use as a roof garden, it's hubby's escape area, he says to learn his masonic stuff, or Spanish, just lately I think it has become a sunbathing-snoozing area. They were not satisfied that we would unlock every day and lock again at night. They never lock it at night I might add. Not sure why admin did not give them a key instead of demanding ours.
Day 2, yesterday, revealed no painting was going to be done on our laundry terrace, because it was enclosed! Between our awful and limited Spanish, one painter's tentative English, and the other painter's no English whatsoever (turns out he is Romanian according to hubby) we managed to understand that if we wanted our laundry area painted there would be a private charge, OF COURSE! Suspecting this quotation was probably highly inflated we nevertheless decided it was worth it. But then having done the laundry and the main terrace, they ran out of paint and did not complete the third terrace also outside the lounge and our bedroom, inspite of various preparations and commencement on the bits that need a small brush, not a roller. Every time a painter got anywhere near Biggles he screamed his silly head off, and they were coming and going all the time between all three terraces, and in and out of the apartment, arrived at 8, breakfast in Spain is not enjoyed until about 10, so there we had more buzzing at the street door as well as the internal movement within the apartment -lunch is between 1 and 3pm apparently.
So, the main terrace is still covered in protection sheets, our living area inside is populated with orchids on the table, and my various decorative bits from the kitchen windowsill in the laundry, and our quiet usually serene lounge is now host to all the loose seating cushions and comfort cushions stacked up on hubby's favourite chair (she smiles - he hardly uses it, only if he has a bad night and gets up to read, but hey there is a whole comfy settee to use meanwhile), and more orchids on another little table are hiding here too, back in their winter corner.
When hubby (shall call him Louis, as the word hubby is annoying me) returned from his Friday afternoon outing I urged him to check the rooftop situation as I had little doubt there would be damage there too, sure enough, a rope pulled over the potted tomatoes and across a Rose grrrrrrrrrrr. They only had to move a pot! Louis has moved them.
By the end of the day we discovered they were not contracted to paint the roof area either, and if we wanted it done in our little area, it was going to be another expensive arrangement. We declined. Not forgetting we have been paying a special levy to cover this much needed improvement.
People have remarked that it is a strange time of year to embark on this task, being very hot, and I have to sympathise with the painters working in the heat and can only imagine that with people needing the work given the unemployment situation in Spain, this job was eagerly taken up.
Hoping they finish tomorrow, and our home is again tidy by Tuesday.
Can't wait for the neighbour below us to discover her laundry terrace which is also enclosed is not to be painted, Debra is a fiery little Italian woman, and I am betting there will be a small Italian explosion downstairs this week.
A last thought for all those grieving the loss of MH17. I am shocked, sickened and saddened by the events in the Ukraine. Disgraceful.
Happy Sunday to you all.
