It's Friday. As I get up hellishly early for the fifth morning in a row, I know that tomorrow I can go at my own pace. We have a Zoom staff briefing, a somewhat jovial, casual affair as the English department congregates in a classroom and makes casual remarks amongst ourselves which no-one but us can hear. I suppose that happens in the staff room too. I only have two classes on a Friday and they are my seniors. It's a relaxing end to the week and gives me a chance to catch up on odd jobs, this year it's house jobs.
At lunchtime Jo drops off some boxes. Back at the house the bathroom floors are tiled and Ian has left the underfloor heating on to speed up the drying. The dehumidifier has half filled with water- less than I was anticipating and shows the house is reasonably dry for all the plaster and paint and concrete. Lance is organising his last few jobs and happy because he's winning. The interior is looking smooth, neat and bright. I can't thank him enough. He's got on with the job, no fuss, and lets me know what I need to organise. I'd be confused without him. He's become my project manager. He hands Kahu a cloth soaked with meths to wipe the Pump House specsoff the front door: 1620 x 2180, $850. It's time- the door is red and ready to go. Just waiting on the handle. We stop in at Lighthouse to look at outdoor lights. Nothing takes my fancy- I'm looking for small and authentic. Those on offer are kitch, modern replicas. Another week gone and closer to home.
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