After almost a decade of studiously ignoring the hairline cracks, chips, peelings and in one mysterious spot, battery acid stains, we finally capitulated and agreed that the house needed a fresh lick of paint. And then collectively shuddered because each of us remembers the last home redecoration. It involved the usual characters; smiling carpenters, stonemasons, architects, painters, a budget and a timetable. As Burns put it succinctly - the best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry. In our case, they zoomed off into another dimension altogether. In a moment of weakness, we'd decided to stay in the house while said renovations were being undertaken. I don't know whose clever idea it was but suspect all of us lost about 5 years by inhaling cement dust over that one fateful month. The first hint that things would not go swimmingly was when workers began to dismantle old bathroom tiles. They started off by chipping these away under our watchful eyes. We turned a