Perhaps it’s all this snow, but this has been the week that I have finally admitted that, you know what, I am sick of minimalism.

We have had about a metre of the powdery stuff for about a week, and I am happy to report that the UK is not the only country to grind to a halt with the littlest flurry. Since the road is impassable I hit upon the idea of decorating the appartment which just happens to as far away from warring children suffering from cabin fever as it is possible to get, without wellies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The room isn’t finished yet, I reckon I could wring another couple of weeks out of it, (more snow on Friday).

It occurs to me that with all the white around outside I’m rather fed up with lots of white inside – so the olive room is getting a make over, complete with trompe l’oeil, chinoiserie, the whole shebang.  I started my painting career with the old fakery and I find it is much like falling off a log.  It’s come over all 1990’s at our house.  Sadly my ladder skill are not what they once were, but after the ladder/head/paintpot incident I find that my clowning skills are still up to scratch.

Meanwhile, more of that snow