Today's big job had me go to Bunnings.
I don't like going to Bunnings very often. I avoid it if I'm really honest about it. It's the smell. As a young child, my father owned a small hardware shop. Bunnings smells like his shop. I remember the paint mixer (I still only ever use Dulux paint). There were packets of nuts, bolts and screws. He sold tools, bits and bobs - all sorts of things. There was a dragster bike in the shop that was there forever, which I eventually received for Christmas when I was about eight. Out the back were bags of fertiliser (Blood and Bone) and cement and other things like that. I can't walk into Bunnings without thinking about this - just as I can't walk into a butcher shop and sense my Grandfather about the place.
Dad only had the shop until I was eight. He had health issues. Also, at the time, the Mitre 10s were taking over the hardware retail space. The local hardware store was soon to be a thing of the past. He got out. We moved to the country. The hardware store was never spoken of again.
Even as an adult, I walk into these hardware giants - the Bunnings and Mitre 10s of the country, and have these residual feelings arise. I think I'd freak out a bit if I could smell the taint of Benson and Hedges Special Milds and Juicy Fruit chewing gum - those, along with the scents of Brilliantine and Old Spice and I can conjure up my father with ease.
But sometimes, you just have to go to Bunnings. The last time I was there was to buy acetone. I had a bad accident with some nail polish. I needed a lot of acetone. I'm set for the next five years for nail polish remover.
Today, I had to go for paint.
The kitchen is in need of a paint. As I said in my January goals, this is one of the jobs I want to get done by the end of January, of which there are eight days left. I need to get a wriggle on.
Thankfully, Jonella has loaned me most of the materials. A roller, a brush, sugar soap, a tray and a roller handle for doing the ceiling. I hate doing ceilings, but looking at the kitchen ceiling, this needs to be done. I'm just going to have to suck it up. It's not going to be too hot. It's a long weekend. It's time.
My other thing with Bunnings. Only get what you need. I don't need a leaf blower or another NutriBullet. I don't need garden gnomes or birdseed. I don't need any tools - I have enough tools in the second draw down with my kitchen implements (much to the chagrin of my chef mate). There is a way to survive Bunnings. Know what you want. Go in. Buy the stuff. Get out. Go on a weekday so you aren't tempted by the sausage sizzle and the charity muggers.
It's just like Ikea. I use the same ethos there, however, I find it hard to go past the one dollar hot dogs which are just next to the tills.
I hardened my resolve. I girded my loins. After picking up the painting accouterments from Thom, Jonella's partner, I went into a foreign Bunnings - not my normal one at Collingwood - the one that is in what used to be the redundant Kodak building - like my father's shop, there is not much need for personal film development. Collingwood Bunnings is a strange Bunnings with the ghosts of many film photographers floating around the space..
I went to the Bunnings down the Nepean Highway near Jonella's place. A huge man-shed of a man-shed. After parking, I made my way in. Thankfully the paint section was near the door. You can get lost for hours if you don't know where you're going. That's when you end up with a leaf blower in your trolley...
I looked at the colours. I made my selections. Lexicon for the kitchen. Whisper White for the loo / hallway. And a pot if ceiling white. This took all of five minutes. White paint is white paint is white paint when you live in a rental. (And I'm pretty sure it what Whisper White I used twelve years ago when I painted out the flat.
It took about five minutes for the man to come to the paint station. The paint was mixed and shaken. I made sure the lids were taped down - especially after having an accident with four litres of white gloss coming to mischief in the foot well of my car some twelve years ago.
The paint was paid for, put in boxes, taken out to the car and driven home, thankfully without incident.
I was in Bunnings for all of twenty minutes. I felt relief as I made my way home - The Pixies were cranked up on the sound system.
I won't have to go back to Bunnings for a long time with any luck. It always leaves me a little unbalanced after I go in there. Okay, it's great that you can take your dog into the shop. They have to be on a lead or in the trolley, but you can take your dog - great, especially on hot days. My sister takes her dog all the time. See below.
(Roxy at Bunnings - she looks too cute to be there - I see it more of a place for Kelpies and Rotties, not girlie Spoodles)
The other things I quite like about Bunnings - you can cop a view of the hot tradies.
Oops, did I say that out loud?
I'm just glad it's over. Tomorrow I'll start sugar soaping and taping up the skirting boards and door frames. Won't that be fun!
As I said, I'm ready to go back to work.
Today's Song:
I don't like going to Bunnings very often. I avoid it if I'm really honest about it. It's the smell. As a young child, my father owned a small hardware shop. Bunnings smells like his shop. I remember the paint mixer (I still only ever use Dulux paint). There were packets of nuts, bolts and screws. He sold tools, bits and bobs - all sorts of things. There was a dragster bike in the shop that was there forever, which I eventually received for Christmas when I was about eight. Out the back were bags of fertiliser (Blood and Bone) and cement and other things like that. I can't walk into Bunnings without thinking about this - just as I can't walk into a butcher shop and sense my Grandfather about the place.
Dad only had the shop until I was eight. He had health issues. Also, at the time, the Mitre 10s were taking over the hardware retail space. The local hardware store was soon to be a thing of the past. He got out. We moved to the country. The hardware store was never spoken of again.
Even as an adult, I walk into these hardware giants - the Bunnings and Mitre 10s of the country, and have these residual feelings arise. I think I'd freak out a bit if I could smell the taint of Benson and Hedges Special Milds and Juicy Fruit chewing gum - those, along with the scents of Brilliantine and Old Spice and I can conjure up my father with ease.
But sometimes, you just have to go to Bunnings. The last time I was there was to buy acetone. I had a bad accident with some nail polish. I needed a lot of acetone. I'm set for the next five years for nail polish remover.
Today, I had to go for paint.
The kitchen is in need of a paint. As I said in my January goals, this is one of the jobs I want to get done by the end of January, of which there are eight days left. I need to get a wriggle on.
Thankfully, Jonella has loaned me most of the materials. A roller, a brush, sugar soap, a tray and a roller handle for doing the ceiling. I hate doing ceilings, but looking at the kitchen ceiling, this needs to be done. I'm just going to have to suck it up. It's not going to be too hot. It's a long weekend. It's time.
My other thing with Bunnings. Only get what you need. I don't need a leaf blower or another NutriBullet. I don't need garden gnomes or birdseed. I don't need any tools - I have enough tools in the second draw down with my kitchen implements (much to the chagrin of my chef mate). There is a way to survive Bunnings. Know what you want. Go in. Buy the stuff. Get out. Go on a weekday so you aren't tempted by the sausage sizzle and the charity muggers.
It's just like Ikea. I use the same ethos there, however, I find it hard to go past the one dollar hot dogs which are just next to the tills.
I hardened my resolve. I girded my loins. After picking up the painting accouterments from Thom, Jonella's partner, I went into a foreign Bunnings - not my normal one at Collingwood - the one that is in what used to be the redundant Kodak building - like my father's shop, there is not much need for personal film development. Collingwood Bunnings is a strange Bunnings with the ghosts of many film photographers floating around the space..
I went to the Bunnings down the Nepean Highway near Jonella's place. A huge man-shed of a man-shed. After parking, I made my way in. Thankfully the paint section was near the door. You can get lost for hours if you don't know where you're going. That's when you end up with a leaf blower in your trolley...
I looked at the colours. I made my selections. Lexicon for the kitchen. Whisper White for the loo / hallway. And a pot if ceiling white. This took all of five minutes. White paint is white paint is white paint when you live in a rental. (And I'm pretty sure it what Whisper White I used twelve years ago when I painted out the flat.
It took about five minutes for the man to come to the paint station. The paint was mixed and shaken. I made sure the lids were taped down - especially after having an accident with four litres of white gloss coming to mischief in the foot well of my car some twelve years ago.
The paint was paid for, put in boxes, taken out to the car and driven home, thankfully without incident.
I was in Bunnings for all of twenty minutes. I felt relief as I made my way home - The Pixies were cranked up on the sound system.
I won't have to go back to Bunnings for a long time with any luck. It always leaves me a little unbalanced after I go in there. Okay, it's great that you can take your dog into the shop. They have to be on a lead or in the trolley, but you can take your dog - great, especially on hot days. My sister takes her dog all the time. See below.
(Roxy at Bunnings - she looks too cute to be there - I see it more of a place for Kelpies and Rotties, not girlie Spoodles)
The other things I quite like about Bunnings - you can cop a view of the hot tradies.
Oops, did I say that out loud?
I'm just glad it's over. Tomorrow I'll start sugar soaping and taping up the skirting boards and door frames. Won't that be fun!
As I said, I'm ready to go back to work.
Today's Song:
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