Heart of Glass

Nun and the welder put in the french window panes, except for one, which was the wrong size, and attached some bolts, ears and slightly twee but serviceable handles:

The painter was at work on my ill-gotten paint job downstairs until he ran out. He's patient and neat, but he doesn't judge his own work, so you have to tell him where it didn't take sufficiently, and like most chang he doesn't consider anything but the task in hand, happily painting over nails and craters that he should have seen to first. Still, he doesn't mind if you then tell him to do it (note Tom's scooter, which he kindly lent me for the week):

The tree man came with his girlfriend, who is the brains behind the operation, and quoted me 3,500 baht, a number that is becoming of ever growing importance to me (and how many other blogs do you know that parody WG Sebald). He claims 500 of that is the bribe to shut up the city; I tried but failed to haggle him down. As we surveyed the monstrosity from the first floor, an old woman from next door screamed at everyone to sweep the monstrosity's wilted blossoms out of the gutter pronto, which task will nonetheless have to wait till another day.