I just got a phone call from the Alphington Joinery and this is what the Alphington Joiner said, "Alexis, your window frames are ready."
(To fill you in, those of you who missed the preceding chapters to this merry tale: I bought a second-storey spinster pad, cheap as chips [approx. 30,000 kilos of chips, the majority of which technically still belongs to el Banko], and my second-storey spinster pad was benighted with rotten window frames. Rotten in the "if you'd like a toothpick, just peal one off the window" sense of rotten. Also in the "look at the interesting orange fungus previously only sighted in the densest woodlands of Bolivia" sense of rotten. So I got this joiner to swing by and tell me how much for Brand Spanking New Unrotten Window Frames, and he quoted a figure which four years ago was a quarter of my annual income, and I said "Bally ho!" and here we are today.)
The Alphington joiner is going to drop my Brand Spanking etc. round on Thursday arvo and carry them up into my flat, I'll paint them over the weekend, the scaffolding will arrive next week, the Alphington Joiner will install the windows into the wall, the glazier will glaze, and Bob mine uncle shall be. This is excellent. This has made my day (though, of course, thanks must also go to the earth, for its ongoing dedication to rotating in relation to the sun).