Whiter shade of …black?

I remember when we were getting married someone asked me what shade of ivory I wanted. What shade? Ivory is a shade.

The boys (Tris and Gregory) are facing a similar conundrum with the staining on the front of the bar and host stand. Except theirs is on the other end of the colour spectrum.

Ashley is after a certain shade of black and the boys are fairly certain there are no shades to black. Even Blind Freddy could tell the difference between these two, right ladies?

I suspect it’s like map reading. Or putting together IKEA furniture. Or billy cart racing. (On the whole, I would say the female of the species get spanked by their male counterparts in that particular activity). There are just some things that are better suited to one sex than another.

This is the host stand. All the light timber you can see needs to be stained the specific shade of black. Only a discerning eye can tell the lacquer from the spray sealer. The varnish versus the paint. The finished against the unfinished. And (one could argue) that’s because other eyes just don’t care.

The devil is most certainly in the details. But Ash was clear at the get-go that spending time on research meant saving money in the long run, and I don’t want to jinx ourselves, but she just might be onto something…

And I am pleased to report that Tris has risen to the shades of black challenge. In fact, he has deemed it a ‘no slave labour’ activity.

(I am not ashamed to admit we had another working bee this weekend, and roped people into horrible jobs like scrubbing the oven, pulling off old toilet doors and scarifying the floor). That’s my sister-in-law. She’s wanted by immigration, so we daren’t show her face. I’m kidding.

Another faceless shot. (I blame our daughter. I had her on one hip and she constantly reached for the phone). That’s Cass, our bartender, getting precise with her corners.

This one’s not actually such a bad shot. Look at how I captured his shadow. That’s one of my brothers making up for the absence of the other two. Pikers.

There’s always one that wants to eat the paint…

Meet Kate. A fully qualified theatre nurse, paint eater and investor in HY. (They’re a small but fantastically incredible group).

Ok I admit it. They’re totally rubbish photos. But you try taking photos with a 17 month old dynamo in your arms.

That is Gregory. Or rather, Gregory’s calves. He’s painting the hallway ‘reddy brown’. The kids at Dulux really let their hair down on that one.

Much on this week at HY. Given that we only have a week left with the builder, I’d say there needs to be…

I shall keep you posted.

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