The Naked Truth.

On Tuesday I woke up.  As normal I lounged around in bed, ordered my cup of coffee, (in bed), waited for my bath to be drawn, plumped, (my own, can you believe it?), pillows and generally enjoyed a standard morning in Chateau Debell.

Durning this time the Husband made my coffee, woke The Tweeps, made said Tweepage breakfast, drew my bath, delivered my coffee and ensured that le chien was empty.  I rested my eyes for a few moments. I need my rest.  Mornings are so stressful.

After a peaceful bath, I patted myself dry with my Egyptian cotton bath sheet and wondered into the bedroom where I fully expected the Husband to have The Tweeps ready for inspection.  This was not to be.

I shudder to share this, but, the Husband was naked.  Allegedly he had been naked since Monday night, (being a good girl I had retired at 9pm so had not had to witness the strip).  I almost fainted with shock.

Sometime later The Tweeps gathered round.  They had seen Daddy during the morning, as had I.  They too had failed to take in the nakedness.  Tweep number 1 countered with, 'Daddy, what big eyes you have', (note to self must change reading books, those fairy stories seep into all aspects of family life).  Excellent breeding that boy.  Tweep number 2 just stared.  She could not hide her surprise.

Once we had stumbled over the shock and accepted that sometimes Daddy just likes to do something for himself, we let him get on with it.  No point in pandering.

The Husband tootled off to work.  Naked.  It took his colleagues 2 hours to notice.  Clearly he is working them so hard they are unable to lift their eyes from the screen.  He drove to the office, encountered the reception staff, conversed with his staff and not one of them mentioned his nakedness.

For the first time in many a moon we could see that noble jaw.  That distinguished chin and that heavenly face.  The man I married has emerged like a butterfly from the chrysalis of bristle.

His friends, having not married him hairless and fancy free felt abuse was in order.

Courtesy of an abused husband.

My hubris was claimed.  My husband has a face as smooth as a baby's posterior. All is well with the world.

Time for some partying. Followed by some painting.

Last week was a slow week on the painting front.  In fact I did not manage to pick up a brush. Nor did I paper a thing.  By Friday I was suffering serious withdrawal   Time was flying and I needed to get in the Studio and paint - but the studio was a mess.  My paints were all out of synch.  My brushes bristled.  There was only one thing to do.

Tidy up time.

My lovely studio is now tidy, shiny and all my paints and brushes are within picking distance.  I stumbled over items whose paint needs had eluded me and brought them to the front of my mind.  and top of my list.  It's that time again.  I know you want to see.  So, just for you a picture of this lovely handmade, brand new, console / kitchen cupboard.  Made by my clever friend in the village but despite having its Antoinette coat on for a while I always felt it needed more.  So here we have, in honour of the Husband, my very own 'Candy Striper' (pronounce her second name as you wish).

Candy Striped Console Table

Antoinette & Original Annie Sloan stripes.

Simply because I love a photo, here is my newly organised paint cupboard - the top half of the dresser is 'before' the bottom half 'after'.

My paint studio.

For now, until next time.  Goodbye.

Marie x