the dog who knew too much...

someone knows more about the cottage than anyone else. every corner, every wire, every hole has been inspected and passed fit for use. he knows all the guys who've worked on the house - and through them and the husband he now has a good understanding of the basics of plumbing, tiling, plastering, gardening, bricklaying, re-wiring, roofing (well, the safe use of ladders anyway) painting & decorating and pretty much anything to do with pulling a house out of the dark ages and into the light.

he has a small obsession with power tools and no fear of noise. he has agreed that the walnut floor was a good buy - though he much prefers it to be dirty. 

good work daddy
bon travail papa

he particularly does not like it wet!... getting your paws wet inside is horrid 

Messy? Moi?

Messi? The Husband? Don't call him Lionel... or it can get NASTY ...
We have reached a tipping point where everything is getting put back together, the awful rubble stage is well and truly over, the plaster dust stage is coming to a climax, and yes, joy of joys - the house is now ripe with paint fumes - not gloss you understand - we're not that far. And so the great tidying has begun. All those tools that won't be needed anymore have been gathered, and, well, dumped on the kitchen table.
They'll find their way home eventually - or they'll get dumped in garage

ma table de cuisine
my kitchen table

look! paint...

attention! peinture...