The painting at the new house has been going well, armed with brushes and more enthusiasm than talent, Meg, brothers in law Rob, Andy and myself have painted most of the house walls, and in my case some small portions of carpets, light switches, plug sockets and spectacles.
As the house has been empty for a little while, an assortment of mini-creatures have moved in and taken up residence. Every wall corner boasts a spider's web and either a live spider or shrivelled and empty husk. I find the discarded spider shells to be slightly more disturbing than the inhabited ones, I can see what a live spider is up to, but the sight of an empty skin always gives me the feeling that its former inhabitant is somewhere behind me. Probably waiting to drop down the back of my neck and give me the screaming abdabs.
My arachnid phobia aside, the decorating was progressing at a decent pace until Andy asked..."What do you call a collection of earwigs ?" He said this in a sort of high pitched and unnaturally strained voice, he also said it walking backwards out of the half finished dining room. As he disappeared I saw a sizeable piece of wallpaper had unattached itself from the wall and was now glued to Andy's paintbrush like a little yellow flag of surrender.
The hole in the wall revealed by the dissolving wallpaper was moving, as Andy retreated from the room, I hid at the top of the step-ladder as a tide of tiny beasts wriggled and writhed out onto the carpet. Woodlice and earwigs ran around in profusion, but when it became apparent that the hole did not actually contain any variety of hideous jumping spider we manned up and crushed the invaders.
Afterwards we did what all good decorators would do, we glued the bit of wallpaper back on with some extra paint.