Taking a fall

It's full steam ahead this week with work progressing at a pace hitherto unknown. We have three weeks to complete the apartment before our first guests of the summer arrive and things are, mostly, going to plan. Having Ed here is helping enormously, as it means that if I have to chase round for materials or sit down and do work for London, the genius isn't left soldiering on on his own - stuff is always getting done. In fact it has lifted his mood enormously which is a good thing for us all.

There has been the usual treasure hunt from one DIY store to another, as previously identified materials suddenly vanish from the shelves the minute we want them. Will we never learn and just buy them when we see them and store them until we need them? This week it was fibreglass to mix into a concrete floor for strengthening and a kitchen worktop that was suddenly in short supply - lots of marble effect browny, bluey, greeny, grey rubbish but plain white - don't be silly. Perseverence paid off and the items were eventually successfully tracked down.

I said things were mostly going to plan. Me falling off a ladder certainly wasn't part of the plan. I am aching and a bit shaky, the gash on my leg stings like hell and the bruising is going to be spectacular - but I don't think anything is broken, so I am probably a bit lucky.

With three of us working we are now sharing tools - Ed was on the scaffold, the genius on one ladder and me on the longer ladder, fully extended, with me reaching to get to the top of the high ceiling. I should really have been on the scaffold but hindsight doesn't help me feel any better.

I have been up and down that ladder a thousand times without a care - but today I sensed that something was wrong and couldn't work it out. In fact I had the ladder the wrong way round and with a dusty parquet floor and me reaching up ... well. It's a fairly sickening feeling when the ladder starts to slip. There is enough time to think 'This isn't good', 'There is nothing I can do to prevent this' and finally, 'This is going to hurt.' I can assure you that landing on top of a metal ladder hurts like hell, despite bracing myself for it and rolling away on impact. The magnitude of the impact is now there for all to see because one of the ladder rungs - the one that messed my leg up - is bent. So I think I should get a pen and write on it in large letters 'Peter's rung', as it will now be forever known.

It's always the same isn't it - just when things start going well, something comes along to give you a reality check. I hope this doesn't slow me up because there is still lots to do. I'll see how my leg feels in the morning and take it from there.

In the meantime, today is the longest day of the year, which is celebrated in a traditional manner all across France. No, I don't mean dancing naked around the town fountain shaking a tambourine - I mean a music festival. I don't understand why either but hey - it's free and on my doorstep and hopefully will take my mind off the throbbing pain below my knee.