Painted and Not Much Else

 Click away now if you are sick to death of me going on about

how happy I am with the paint-job.

 It's white, people.

And I've had a good cull.
Thanks to the painter saying to me each morning, 'Yes, now's
the time for a good throw-out'.

 The House of Flora's atelier has never looked better.

 Before:

After:

I got up early today because I went to bed early to escape the fumes.

Cause and effect.

Saw this scene on awakening.

That proboscis's still growing.

 The sunrise was lovely.

Before:

After:

 Mr Fascinata brought the household these cushions, by proxy,

while he was away on a Golf trip.

He's in tune. 

 Colour-coding the book-shelf's back on the 'To-do' list.

The rainbow translation got lost in the pre-paint shove and stash.

 This old painted metal 1950s tinware tray emerged from the heights of

the top of the kitchen cupboards.

I couldn't bear to put it in the St Vinnies box.
It was a little gift from Starr's mother yonks ago.

 I'm setting up a vignette with my Ossie Clark vintage

panty-hose, who would have thought?

Lovely Bea from Dangerous Liaisons blogspot sent them to me.

All the way from the United Kingdom.

 

On a different note, aren't paint colours named strangely at times.

Would you name a paint colour this?

Self Destruct? Wonder how many people do,

during renovations?

Stay centred on the job, now.