Anyway, by the magic of photo stitching, here's a panoramic shot of my little boudoire:
Admittedly, it's a bit like waking up in a tub of vanilla ice cream, but I like it.
Of course having such a room, any visitor is instantly overcome by its inviting creams and soft percall bedding. The photographs are a point of conversation, but not for long. They sit on the bed, lightly tapping the space beside them; invite me to join them. Looking a bit whatsit, it all starts to get thingy and you lie down alongside each other, faces get closer. Your heart races, images flash through your mind...
Could this be it? Could it really be happening? Getting off while they're all downstairs?
Alas, something seems wrong. Something's caught their eye... it all stops... you join their gaze and look up to see:
Yep, all that hard work on the decorating and I never got round to painting the loft hatch: we were having the loft insulated the week after I'd finished the main job, so I left it because I knew the workmen would make a mess of the hatch as they shoved the bundles of insulation through it. I just never got round to painting it.
Still, at least it's a conversation point.
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