The year of painting dangerously

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As I wiped my brush idly over the deck rails, I thought:  I could paint for a year, the house would look magnificent, and that could be a goal.  The fence is 85% painted, the last 15 % being that which can’t be reached by any ladder in our possession, even standing on tip toe.  And seeing as the back yard could, arguably, be counted as a jungle, standing tiptoe on a ladder with a black paint brush in your hand is quite dangerous.  For suburbia at least.  Especially when the least little bit of of black paint on the neighbours’ side could lead to something along the lines of the zombie-unicorn wars. 

Yes, real life seems vaguely disappointing some days.  I want to live in The Culture.

New World Order

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The zombies are out in the world, for the most part, and in the heart of the zombie jungle most of the mess has been packed away into a suitcase.  A token effort has been made to begin the fence painting which the neighbours have been hinting at for some time.  Their suggestions of a jarrah tint have been met with black, however.   Goal:  finish the fence before the end of the month.   Or pray for rain.

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