||[Sep. 11th, 2006|11:55 am]
Why do I keep spelling Carl's name with a "K"? I guess because I'm thinking Marx not Perkins.|
But Carl with a "C" is right.
This is his last day with us for three weeks. He has another better-paying job to go to. Then he'll come back. He's so happy we're letting him go that he's said he'll tile our kitchen for free.
But he's a mate . He's got a living to earn. Besides, it's nice for us to have a holiday from all the dust and noise.
He's working on the banisters right now with a dinky little sander he bought on sale at B & Q. It looks like a domestic iron and gets into all the nooks and crannies.
He's so thorough. Our next door neighbour asked us in to carry something out to the car for her this morning and Carl was muttering afterwards about the work she's just had done; "They haven't sanded before they painted; they haven't laid that floor right."
And he charges for the job, not for the time it takes. How good is that?