There were four of us. The President of the Resident's Association, his wife Wopra, Mr Practical and me. [Mr. P is the sort of chap who can whip out a pressure sprayer from his back pocket at the drop of a hat.]
We started to rub down a gate each; removing all the loose paint, rust and oxidised galvanising. We all got absolutely filthy.
At the end of the day, Wopra was very concerned about us all carrying the mess into the apartment block on our shoes and clothes.
So, she came up with a cunning plan.
She suggested we each got into the lift one at a time, took our clothes off, carefully of course, and then dashed into our own apartments to shower, carrying our clothes wrapped up in shed-free bundles.
I could see a drawback .
It would be just my luck that as I disrobed, someone at the top of the apartment block would summon the lift, only to find when the doors slid open, me, stark naked. And not a Jehovah's Witness to be seen.
I am beginning to get a little worried that reality is becoming as bizarre as the usual load of flimflam on this blog.
On the day we did the painting I was very careful to keep clean, I can tell you!
(Flimflam; what do you mean? You'll upset the Avid Reader Peabrain, you know it's all the gospel truth. Lo,TG Ed)
Update - it's getting stranger and stranger - Wopra has just suggested abseiling to paint some bits that are high up!! Please believe me - this is all true!
