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connectflooring · 8 months ago

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Transform Your Space with Melbourne Garage Floor Tiles

Garage floors often bear the brunt of heavy use, from housing vehicles to serving as workshops or storage areas. In Melbourne, where weather conditions can range from hot and dry to cool and wet, having a durable and aesthetically pleasing garage floor is essential. Garage floor tiles offer an excellent solution for both functionality and style. In this blog, we’ll explore the benefits of garage floor tiles and why they’re a perfect choice for Melbourne homeowners looking to upgrade their garages.

Why Choose Garage Floor Tiles?

Garage floor tiles are an increasingly popular choice due to their durability, ease of installation, and variety of design options. Unlike traditional concrete floors, which can crack, stain, and wear over time, garage floor tiles provide a resilient and attractive surface that can withstand heavy use.

1. Durability

Garage floor tiles are designed to endure the harshest conditions. They are typically made from high-quality materials such as PVC or polypropylene, which are resistant to chemicals, oils, and other automotive fluids. This makes them an ideal choice for a garage environment where spills and leaks are common.

2. Ease of Installation

One of the most significant advantages of garage floor tiles is their ease of installation. Most tiles are designed to interlock, meaning you can install them yourself without the need for professional help or special tools. This can save you time and money, and if a tile gets damaged, you can easily replace it without having to redo the entire floor.

3. Aesthetic Appeal

Garage floor tiles come in a variety of colors, patterns, and finishes, allowing you to customize your garage to match your personal style or the overall look of your home. Whether you prefer a sleek, modern look or a more traditional style, there are tiles available to meet your needs.

Benefits of Garage Floor Tiles in Melbourne

1. Weather Resistance

Melbourne’s weather can be unpredictable, with temperatures fluctuating throughout the year. Garage floor tiles are designed to withstand these changes without cracking or warping, making them a reliable choice for Melbourne homeowners.

2. Insulation

Garage floor tiles can provide an extra layer of insulation, helping to keep your garage warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer. This can be particularly beneficial if you use your garage as a workspace or additional living area.

3. Safety

Many garage floor tiles come with anti-slip surfaces, which can help prevent accidents caused by wet or oily floors. This is especially important in a garage environment where spills are likely.

4. Easy Maintenance

Keeping a garage clean can be a challenge, but garage floor tiles make it much easier. They can be easily swept or mopped, and because they are resistant to stains, they maintain their appearance over time.

Choosing the Right Tiles for Your Garage

When selecting garage floor tiles for your Melbourne home, consider the following factors:

Material: Choose a material that is durable and suitable for your garage’s primary use. PVC and polypropylene are popular choices due to their resilience and ease of maintenance.

Design: Consider the overall aesthetic you want to achieve. Look for tiles that match your style preferences and complement the existing decor of your home.

Installation: Opt for tiles that are easy to install and replace. Interlocking tiles are generally the most user-friendly option.

Conclusion

Melbourne Garage Floor Tiles offers a practical and stylish solution for upgrading your garage. Their durability, ease of installation, and variety of design options make them an excellent choice for any homeowner looking to enhance their garage space. By investing in high-quality garage floor tiles, you can transform your garage into a clean, safe, and visually appealing area that meets all your functional needs.

#Melbourne Garage Floor Tiles #connect flooring

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agpaintingplasteringrepair · 9 months ago

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Revitalize Your Space with Ag Painting & Plastering!

Is your Melbourne home showing signs of wear and tear on its walls? Don't let drywall damages dampen the beauty of your space! Trust Ag Painting & Plastering to bring new life to your interiors with our expert drywall repair services.

Why Choose Ag Painting & Plastering?

??? Skilled Craftsmanship: Our team of skilled artisans specializes in repairing and restoring drywall damages, ensuring a seamless finish that looks like new. We take pride in our attention to detail and commitment to delivering results that exceed your expectations.

Prompt and Punctual: Time is of the essence, and we understand the urgency of fixing drywall damages. Our professionals are punctual and work efficiently to complete projects on time, minimizing any disruption to your daily life.

Color Matching Experts: Worried about color discrepancies after the repair? Fear not! Our color matching experts ensure that the repaired areas seamlessly blend with the existing paint, leaving no visible traces of the damage.

Our Drywall Repair Services Include:

Hole Patching: Whether it's a small dent or a larger hole, we have the expertise to patch it up flawlessly.

Crack Repairs: Say goodbye to unsightly cracks with our expert repair solutions that address the root cause.

Water Damage Restoration: Don't let water stains ruin your walls – we specialize in restoring walls affected by water damage.

Texture Matching: We excel in recreating various textures, ensuring a consistent and uniform look across your walls.

#Plastering Repairs in Melbourne #Garage Floor Painting in Melbourne #Painting and Decorating Services in Melbourne #Sealing and Plastering in Melbourne #Plasters in Melbourne #Wall Plastering Repairs in South Melbourne

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revorocketnails · 2 years ago

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Melbourne Large Wine Cellar Large elegant dark wood floor wine cellar photo with display racks

#wine cellar #melbourne #basement garage #red #hardwood flooring

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37sommz-archive · 6 months ago

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✼. INVITATION | 2019.

CH. 05. NOW PLAYING: essence by wizkid [fluff, suggestive]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela makes a promise, 2.5k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀MARCH 14, 2019 — melbourne, australia

“P9, Michaela. That is points at home; well done.”

Eugenio’s voice crackled into Michaela’s helmet. The celebratory shower of applause from the Alfa Romeo garage echoed alongside his voice, adding to the near imperceptibility of his speech.

Though the sweat from the Melbourne heat simmered underneath Michaela’s baklava, she could only focus on the calming fact relayed to her by her engineer—points in her debut race.

“Couldn’t have done it without you all. Cheers to the new season,” she responded with a sigh of satisfaction. It wasn’t long after that when she heard her father's voice leak into the radio. A gentle, “Amazing drive, Mickey. We’re eternally proud” only magnified the moment's euphoria.

Though it was nowhere close to a podium, Michaela figured keeping up with Kimi Raikkonen just ahead in P8 was more than worth celebrating. Finally reaching the garage and kicking the engine off, Michaela hopped out of the car's cockpit with practiced grace. Fist bumps and energized embraces from the team personnel eager to congratulate the rookie driver.

Rushing to embrace her family before turning away to be weighed, her sister, Courtney, was the one to remind her that she had joined a small list of modern drivers who had scored on debut. A whisper of Hamilton and Prost and Villeneuve slipped through her lips and into the shy ears of her younger sister.

Varied strengths of celebratory pats and friendly hugs kept Michaela in a daze as she floated from the Alfa Romeo garage to the weighing platform. Words of congratulatory relief left the lips of the remaining 17 drivers excluded from the parc ferme madness.

As she pulled the straw of her energy drink to her mouth, a particularly firm clap on the back shook her from her daze. A familiar German accent filled her ears before she could fully regain control of her breathing.

“You might have the biggest balls here. Solid drive, Mick.” Helmet in hand, Sebastian Vettel’s acknowledgment drew chuckles of appreciation from the nearby Perez and Hulkenberg.

Rolling her eyes in response to the senior driver’s sense of humor, Michaela threw a friendly punch into his shoulder. Quickly engaging in light-hearted conversation with a few of the surrounding drivers, Michaela found herself back in that daze. As if totally disconnected from her body, it wasn’t until she was sitting on the floor of her parents’ living room that Michaela realized the magnitude of her achievement.

The Sommers had taken it upon themselves to invite several drivers to a small cookout after the race. Though George, Lando, Alex, and Pierre, the usual guests, had made their way over, Pierre and Lando’s parents were in tow. Michaela was more than shocked to see Antonio Giovinazzi find his way among the group. Somebody—likely her father—must have extended his invitation to a plus one, Michaela figured. The familiar face of his friend Olivier stood out to her almost immediately.

Between the chilly November night, they shared in Abu Dhabi and the race in Melbourne, the two had shared little more than polite half acknowledgments. Michaela never got around to calling him back. Not that she planned on it or even truly believed he’d give her the time of day. It must have been that same sense of self-sabotage that Pierre had once mused would “obliterate any potential for romance.” She had called him a dick at the time, remembering the long eye roll she responded with at the time. Sitting there on the floor with her head leaned against her mother’s legs, her hands pulling Michaela’s hair into two neat Dutch braids, she couldn’t help but realize he was right. As he often was, frustratingly.

It was Pierre’s mother’s words that shook her out of her thoughts. “Have you met Antonio’s friend? The French one?” The question was innocent, but Michaela couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that the older woman knew more about him than she let on.

“Briefly,” she decided would suffice to satiate Pascale’s curiosity. Sitting to his mother’s left, Pierre seemed to perk up at the mention of Olivier. Leaning over to mention something to his mother in French, Michaela gritted her teeth as she strained to catch what the Frenchman could be saying.

“English, Pierre,” she almost begged, embarrassment written all over her face.

Her mother and sister sensed the discomfort on the youngest Sommers’ face. Courtney, jumping up to sit on the other side of Pierre, tapped him on the shoulder. Reciprocating her energy, Pierre whispered into her ear as well. A delighted laugh left the lips of the Australian two years his senior.

Courtney let out a more boisterous laugh in response to her younger sister’s irritation. Her amusement spurred on additional laughter from Pascale and Pierre, who were both keen on the secret. Catching her breath, Courtney couldn’t shake the smile adorning her glossed lips, the very same brand Michaela used for hers, at the newly revealed information.

“You know him?” Courtney almost exclaimed from her seat directly across from her sister. Rolling her eyes once she recognized the hidden implications of Courtney’s question, Michaela sighed against Miriam’s legs.

“Yeah, he used to drive F3,” she muttered. Miriam began to chuckle herself, knowing her daughter’s self-imposed avoidance of romantic interaction. “Not with me, though.” The words are tacked on quietly, parroting information she learned from Antonio—Alfa Romeo’s reserve driver.

“Where did you even meet him?” Miriam questioned calmly, trying—more than could be said about the giggling pair of 20-somethings—not to set off the youngest child.

“In Abu Dhabi,” was muttering one more by the embarrassed Australian. “He was at the club I went to with Alex.” Finally catching on to the unspoken, Miriam’s words faltered in her throat until she caught Pascale’s eyes and fell into a fit of laughter herself. A short “Oh!” left her lips between her amusement, triggering a teasing snicker from Pierre.

“Did you text him back?” He spoke up from his side of the room. A glint in his eyes not unfamiliar to Michaela made her skeptical of his intentions in posing the question.

“No…” she drawled out slowly, eyes squinting at the older driver. A sudden gasp from Pascale broke their staring contest, and she excitedly spoke with a clap of her hands.

“Why not? He’s so sweet, and he’s French!” Her eyes widened cartoonishly. The blues become brighter still as she symbolically adopts a schoolgirl’s interest in Michaela’s love life.

Miriam’s amused chuckle at the added “qualification” only added to the heat Michaela couldn’t shake from her face. The embarrassment seemed to radiate off of her very being, only serving to make her increasingly wary of drawing attention from the other side of the room.

When her mother laughed, her father noticed. It was one of the criteria a younger Courtney had added to her blue and purple ‘Cute Things Daddy Does for Mummy’ list, the same one that still hung in her childhood room. Michaela remembers the differences in their rooms, even in their childhood years. Courtney, the romantic, decorated her room head to toe with posters from her favorite movies, while Michaela, the anti-romantic, hoarded posters of her favorite circuits.

“I don’t do relationships,” Michaela spoke under her breath. Her hands found their way to her warm cheeks, wishing them to cool down before turning her attention away from the group, catching sight of her father seated with a beer in his hand, speaking animatedly—by some cruel coincidence—with Olivier.

“It’s lonely at the top,” Miriam hummed, reaching for her glass of wine. As Michaela exhaled deeply in response, Pascale echoed the statement hanging in the air. “If you’re worried about a man understanding your commitment to your career, don’t waste your time. They won’t.”

Hums of appreciation spiral through the air from the three other women in the small circle. Michaela catches Pierre’s eyes, suppressing a giggle as it rips through her. A bratty scowl rested upon his face at his mother’s words, his mind scrambling to find the right words to defend himself in an effort to prove he was exempt from her quip.

Before he could get the words out, his mother added to her statement. A carefree, “Just find a polite one and keep him around for a good lay” leaves Pascale’s lips before the rest of them can even begin to process the thought. It is Miriam who chokes on her wine first, reaching over the center table to grasp the Frenchwoman’s hand in her own. The two parents giggle together over the idea as if a congratulations.

Their three children look on with uncomfortable sighs, Michaela herself seemingly the most painful. Her lips curl up into a tense grimace before a deeper set of voices snaps her out of her discomfort. A low French accent hits her ears first before the others—Italian and Australian—can strike her as familiar. Her heart quickens once she lays eyes on the owner of the husky voice, his hazel eyes having yearned for hers from across the room over the last several hours.

Ignoring Pierre's stray whistle coinciding with his mother's shushes, Michaela shakes herself from her lavender cloud. A quirk of his head towards the kitchen is all it takes to rouse her from her place on the floor. She could not bring herself to care if she were aware of the eyes tracking their movements. The husk of his scent and the drawl in his voice almost hypnotized her from the beginning.

Only vaguely aware of the sound that fails to emit from the shocked few now seated in the living room, Michaela finds comfort leaning into the countertop behind her. Olivier’s near-golden eyes sweep the length of her body, leaving her burning to feel his touch on her. It is a clear of his throat that only accelerates her misery, pulling in a breath as his hand sweeps through his dark curls.

“So?” is what Olivier opens with. A twitch in her features draws a small chuckle out of him. “If I was that bad, you should have just told me then.” When Michaela can only furrow her eyebrows in confusion, he laughs once more. His hand lifts his beer to his lips, taking a gulp as if drawing strength from the alcohol.

“You never called,” he almost whispers as if embarrassed. The odd tone strikes Michaela, who straightens up in anticipation of his following words. “You wanted me to call?” Her voice is just as soft as his, and her eyes struggle to look anywhere but into his.

He waves off the question with an immediate scoff, breaking eye contact for just a moment as he carefully places his chilled beer on the counter behind him. Taking a confident step forward, a hand reaches out to her before hesitating and falling back to his side.

Deciding to cross them, he answers her decisively, “Of course, I wanted the pretty girl to call.” It’s smooth as it rolls off his tongue, twirling with the French accent that dances through the sentence. This time, it was Michaela’s turn to break eye contact, the ‘pretty girl’ being the last thing she heard before falling back into her desperate yearning.

“Plus, I’m quite a fan of yours.”

The sentence draws a giggle out of an embarrassed Michaela. The Australian’s heart fluttered beneath her blushing skin, leaving Olivier with practical stars in his eyes as he watched her fluster. Anyone else would find the behavior distinctly out of character for the ultra-competitive driver. Her usual gentle cockiness was replaced with an unfamiliar coyness that nearly left her paralyzed to his charms.

Wordlessly, Michaela finds a surge of courage, tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder before taking a step forward to shorten the gap floating between the two of them. The move brings a falter to her steps as she takes in a whiff of his cologne. Expensive-smelling is what she decided the scent was. As Michaela places her out in wait, Olivier’s features twist with confusion.

Her simple request, "Hand me your phone, I'll put my number in," shocks him immensely.

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken promise. A scoff leaves his lips, a playful sound that betrays the spark of curiosity in his eyes. In one fluid motion, his honey-toned hand reaches into his pocket, releasing his phone from its confines and placing it in her waiting hands. Her short, manicured fingers wrap around the device, the touch sending a jolt of anticipation through him.

With an ease that hints at a confidence typically seen in her Sauber racesuits, Michaela's thumbs dance across the screen, her name and number slowly appearing on his contacts list. She adds the details with a quickness, a desire to commit to the action before her mind can intervene.

"Okay?"

The question is a challenge, her voice laced with a vulnerability that dares him to reject her. Her lips quirk upwards, a gentle smile that contrasts with the doe eyes locked on his, pleading for approval.

"Perfect."

The affirmation falls from the Frenchman's lips, the single word a decisive praise that sparks a giggle from Michaela. A uncharacteristically delicate hand rises to cover the lower half of her face, as if willing herself to hide her reaction. The sound is melodic, a sweet note that hangs in the air between them.

The room around them fades into the background, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses receding until all that remains is the crackle of tension between their bodies. It is Olivier who bridges the nearly nonexistent gap, his movements an act of casual seduction. A hand snakes down to rest on the curve of her lower back, the touch sending a shiver down her spine. His fingers draw loose circles into the material of her shirt, the caress featherlight yet full of intent.

As if drawn by an unseen force, Michaela's hands find their way up the length of his firm torso, coming to rest on the broad expanse of his shoulders. The contact burns unexpectedly, the heat of his skin seeping into hers. The air between them thickens, heavy with the weight of unspoken promises. His breath intermingles with hers, a mix of anticipation and desire.

"Promise you'll answer?"

The question is a whispered desperation, a plea for reassurance.

Words become useless as her lips find his, the contact a jolt of electricity that sears through them. The 'yes' is unspoken, conveyed in the press of her mouth and in the sweep of her tongue. She pulls away before he can fully process the sensation, leaving him longing, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic motion. A soft "I promise" is her parting gift, the honeyed words hanging in the air like a promise of more to come.

With a grace that contradicts the turmoil bubbling inside her, Michaela leaves the kitchen, her steps a slow withdrawal back into the familiar safety of the living room. He remains still, his phone still clutched in his hand, her number and name staring back at him. A challenge and invitation consuming him totally.

✼.⠀taglist:⠀

@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar

@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

@pacmacs-macs @thearchieves @doodlehunz

@lavisenri @evie-119 @bxdbxtxh

@seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn @99snse

@ginghampearlsnsweettea @alliwantisadonut @hiireadstuff

@emilyval1 @scarlettwidow3000 @anotherblackreader

@sv5beehives @mynameisangeloflife @tellybearryyyy

@melancholyy-hill

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landoom · 4 months ago

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DAY 1 - HOME RACE

Also on AO3

Set in the same AU as "A Bump in the Road"

Silverstone 2026

“So? Ready to admit it’s your home race, now?” Lando asks as they come out of the fan stage.

Oscar shrugs. He reckons the fans were clearly as supportive of him as they were of Lando. He saw the signs, heard the chants, spotted the “81” on the caps and hoodies…

But Silverstone was never his home race. He always made that clear. Silverstone was the team’s home, Silverstone was Lando’s home. He never wanted to take that away from them. Jokes aside, he had Melbourne and that felt enough.

Still, Lando’s right. It feels different now.

He hasn’t been living in the UK for 2 years. UK is technically less his home that it had been.

But there is now something stronger than that linking him to the country.

As they walk back to the garage, Oscar looks at the ring around his finger.

“Perhaps…” he finally answers but he knows Lando will know it means “yes”.

Yes, Silverstone can be his home race now. Silverstone is George’s home race after all. And their little bud was born in London… So it might not be Oscar’s home race but it’s definitely his family’s.

When they reach the McLaren hospitality, having stopped to take pictures with some more fans, Oscar is welcomed by the sight of Jenny, their nanny, playing with Rose.

“It is Rose’s home race, for sure!” Lando nods before rushing toward the little girl who squeals in delight as soon as she spots one of her favourite uncles. The squeal dissolves in pure laughter when Lando starts tickling her and, in their usual fashion, they both end up rolling on the floor.

From the corner of his eyes, Oscar spots Ash taking some pictures that he knows will be sent to him and added to the way too large collection George loves to keep and order and rename and classify…

This, more than anything else, feels like home.

#osctober #osctober 2024 #f1 #formula 1 #oscar piastri #lando norris #george/oscar #geoscar #george russell #f1 rpf #formula 1 fic #formula 1 rpf #f1 fanfic #my writing #a bump in the road

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violetszone · 2 years ago

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Melbourne Surprise

Ollie Bearman x fem!reader

From this request

Summary: You haven't seen Ollie for a while, so you wanted to go to a race and surprise him.

A/n: not edited writing, so much fluff

You could really understand the difficulties of dating a formula driver because they had to work constantly even during their holidays it was very difficult to even talk on the phone when the races started.Also, you couldn't go to watch the races because they were at the time of your school.

But once you managed to arrange your lessons so you could go to see Ollie and surprise him.You had set yourself up for the Melbourne race, talked to a few people on the team and said that you were coming and that you needed a little help. You should have gotten in before Ollie didn't see you. And of course they agreed to help you.

You somehow got into the garage before Ollie on race day and frankly you were so excited you hadn't seen each other in a really long time.When someone finally told you that Ollie was here, you looked out slightly, and he was walking into the garage with his earphones , his bag in his hand, looking at his phone. you smiled and went back in you straightened your hair 1 minute later Ollie walked into the garage he looked at you then he looked at the staff and looked at you again in shock as he put his bag down on the floor you opened your arms and he quickly hugged you.

He stopped hugging you and grabbed your shoulders "What are you doing here you were supposed to be at school" You briefly told him everything, you hugged him again, of course, this happiness did not last long because Ollie had a lot of things to do.Still, it made you very happy to be with him while he was training or doing other things until race time.

Before the race, you were sitting on the side reading a book while he was warming up with the ball. For a moment, the ball hit your head, it wasn't too hard, but it still hurt.Ollie came up to you and put his hand where the ball hit."Sorry I'm distracted, does it hurt so much" You smiled "It's okay, it hurts a little bit, it will pass soon, you keep working, goo" Even though he was worried, he knew that if he didn't do what you said,you would be angry with him, so he started working with the ball again, but he was looking at you and trying to make sure you were okay.

When it was race time, Ollie was ready, put on his racing suit, hugged you, kissed you, and thanked you for being here. The race was so exciting and fast, you didn't even realize it was over. Ollie walked up to you just as he got out of the car and passed the controls.After the race, you walked hand in hand and left . "YN where are we going" you smiled and shrugged "Of course to buy a smoothie"

#violetszone #violetszonerequest #f2 fanfic #f2 imagine #f2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 #ollie bearman angst #ollie bearman instagram au #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman

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wub-fur-radio · 1 year ago

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Same Old Old Thing for the New New Year

Happy New Year! Wub-Fur Internet Radio (now in our 25th year of intermittent internet webcasting) is still up to the same OLD tricks, launching a NEW offensive in the neverending war against nostalgia with this wonderful NEW mix of excellent NEW music for the NEW year. Twenty-one certified indie/garage/punk/post-punk bangers to help get your musical year off to an agreeably noisy and tuneful start. Featuring contributions from Class, Fucked Up, Dream Wife, Tyvek, Protomartyr, Priors, Marnie Stern, Woolen Men, and 13 more cool bands who, like birds tangled up in wires, are trying in their own ways to be free.

No birds or wires were harmed in the making of our cover art (which was created with the Artificial Intelligence which now inhabits Adobe Photoshop). Apologies to the late Leonard Cohen.

▶︎🎶 Listen on Mixcloud – or – 🍎 Music

Running Time: 1 hour, 8 seconds

Tracklist

I Fucked It Up (1:40) — Sparklehorse | Rock ’n’ Roll Heaven

Public Void (3:23) — CLASS | Tucson, AZ

In My Condition (2:28) — Egyptian Blue | Brighton, UK

Orbit (3:30) — Dream Wife | London, UK

One Day (4:59) — Fucked Up | Toronto, Canada

Shadow Slaw (3:23) — Cereal Glyphs | Louisville, KY

What It's For (1:58) — Tyvek | Detroit, MI

Spoiled (2:00) — Woolen Men | Portland, OR

Whispering (2:54) — Tunic | Winnipeg, Canada

Plain Speak (3:11) — Marnie Stern | New York, NY

3800 Tigers (2:22) — Protomartyr | Detroit, MI

Human Reaction (3:49) — mssv | Gainesville, FL

Radio to Forever (2:16) — Upper Wilds | Brooklyn, NY

Grease Rot Chemical (2:05) — GEE TEE | Sydney, Australia

Lousy Company (2:01) — Kitchen’s Floor | Brisbane, Australia

Change (3:56) — Cable Ties | Melbourne, Australia

Daffodil (2:36) — Priors | Montreal, Canada

Lily Pad (2:40) — Pardoner | San Francisco, CA

Don't Become the Enemy (2:14) — Cut Piece | Portland, OR

Give You Back Your Youth (3:20) — Gumm | Chattanooga, TN

Ornament (3:21) — Screaming Females | New Brunswick, NJ

All tracks released in 2023.

#indie rock #garage rock #punk rock #post punk #music mixes #happy new year 2024

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epoxyfloorsmelbourne · 2 months ago

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Factory Flooring Shepparton

For durable and professional Factory Flooring Shepparton, Epoxy Floors Melbourne is the leading choice. Their expertise ensures that factory floors are resilient, long-lasting, and able to withstand the heavy demands of industrial environments. Specializing in Factory Flooring in Shepparton, they provide tailored solutions to meet your specific needs. Their Epoxy Factory Flooring Shepparton…

#Garage Flooring Melbourne #Garage Floorings Melbourne #Mechanical Workshop Flooring #Mechanical Workshop Flooring in Melbourne #Mechanical Workshop Flooring Melbourne #Melbourne Mechanical Workshop Epoxy Flooring #Workshop Flooring #Workshop Flooring Melbourne

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artistones · 2 years ago

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Epoxy Garage Floor Melbourne

Home Concrete Solutions are one of the best suppliers of Epoxy Garage Floor in Melbourne. With years of experience, we work with skilled professionals who make your flooring safe and durable. Visit our page to check our services in detail.

#Epoxy Garage Floor Melbourne

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allgrind · 3 months ago

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How Much Does Polished Concrete Cost Per Square Meter in Melbourne?

When considering polished concrete for your space, understanding the cost is essential. In Melbourne, the price of polished concrete typically ranges between $50 and $80 per square meter. The cost of polished concrete per square meter can vary depending on factors such as the size of the area, the complexity of the finish, and the level of preparation required.

For a basic finish, expect to pay on the lower end, while more intricate designs or higher-end finishes like exposed aggregate will push the price up. Additionally, any necessary repairs or surface preparation before polishing can add to the cost.

Choosing polished concrete offers long-term value due to its durability, low maintenance, and sleek appearance. It's a cost-effective flooring solution that provides an upscale look for both residential and commercial spaces. At Allgrind, we ensure high-quality service to meet your specific flooring needs.

#concrete floor finishes #flake flooring #garage floors #concrete overlay #polished concrete melbourne #epoxy floor coating cost #polished concrete #Polished Concrete Cost Per Square Metre

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galadriel1010 · 9 months ago

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Hello!! May I request 1 and 67 for the notebook thing?

Notebook 1, page 67 is this missing scene from the Blood of Juana the Mad.

1-67 is a missing scene from the Blood of Juana the Mad.

Jack Robinson showed himself out of Phryne’s parlour with a quiet sense of finality that made even Mac’s gut clench. The front door closed with a quiet snick, loud in the unnatural silence he’d left behind and completely at odds with the enormity of the gesture. It was a long, painful moment before Phryne moved at last, pulling herself from her closed-off stillness and shaking her head curtly before she drifted towards another drink.

“This is more than him running scared, isn’t it?” Mac asked her.

“It seems that way. He’s made his mind up, and while I might not like it, I have to respect it.”

Mac accepted the offered drink with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Phryne. If I’d known how bad it was, I never would have called him in.”

“Yes you would.” Phryne touched her glass to Mac’s in an absent toast and nearly downed her drink in one. “It’s me you’d have had to leave out, and then you would have had to turn to me for somewhere for Beatrice to stay anyway, and it would have seemed like I was intruding on his case. This, awkward as it is, is better.”

She rolled her eyes. “I do have other friends with spare rooms, you know.”

Not many, admittedly, and none she would feel she could call on out of the blue and ask to host a student for an unspecified amount of time. Especially someone who needed as much patience as Beatrice did.

It was hard to believe that Phryne had only been back in Melbourne for less than a year. She breezed back in like she’d never been away, and life rearranged itself around her. Within weeks of her return she was the doyenne of Prudence’s social circle, the Adventuresses Club had crystalised around her, and the motley crew who gathered at Wardlow had become more like her family than Margaret and Henry ever had been.

She’d thought it unusual, she had to admit, how little she’d seen lately of Jack Robinson, but since Gertie’s death there had been so much to do and Phryne had just been the natural fulcrum for all of it. Organising the funeral, helping Claude to take legal responsibility for Millie, arranging legal defence for Ailsa and taking care of her house and the intricacies of carrying on the business of the garage. She always seemed to know what needed doing, and if she couldn’t do it herself she knew who could. If she could do it herself, she usually already had.

They’d spent so many nights at the club or at Claude’s house, or occasionally out for dinner. Not at Wardlow, though, once Millie moved out. Before, Mac had thought that Phryne was seeking people out, but now she suspected she was avoiding something instead.

Jack Robinson had walked out and taken a very important part of Phryne Fisher with him. Mac thought that she could guess which part.

“Go on, then,” she said, settling into an armchair. “What’s the long version?”

Phryne shrugged. “I don’t rightfully know. I have my suspicions, but I can hardly claim to be an objective observer.”

“Admitting fallibility. That’s a new one.” Mac tilted her head. “What is your theory?”

She was silent too long, until she’d curled up in the other armchair with her shoes discarded on the floor and one arm wrapped around her knees. “I think he loves me, Mac,” she said quietly. “Poor fool.”

“Don’t do that. Of course he loves you, and why wouldn’t he?” Mac set her empty glass aside and leaned towards Phryne. “You are one of the most courageous, generous, compassionate people I’ve ever met. And he is, for a man, remarkably sensible and observant. And he seems to enjoy your company.”

Phryne rolled her eyes. “That’s sensible, but hardly unusual.”

“You didn’t know him before he knew you. But surely even you can see how much happier he is now. Or was, before he was afflicted with this bout of idiocy.” She sat back in her chair and reached over to top up her drink. “Do you love him?”

“I think I must do,” Phryne admitted. “Quite desperately. Nothing else would hurt this much.”

“And you love your work. Are you going to let hm take them both from you?” She took a sip of her drink while she watched Phryne stare at the ceiling and try, too obviously, not to cry. “This isn’t like you, Pin.”

“None of this is like me! I don’t do falling in love, and certainly not with men who so clearly don’t wish to fall in love with me! It’s probably some sort of cosmic payback. But I miss him, Mac.” She shrugged helplessly. “If we could just go back to being friends… but he’s as stubborn as he is clever. If his mind is made up, God himself couldn’t change it.”

“Yes, well, you aren’t God. You’re Phryne Fisher, and she doesn’t let other people suffer if she can help it; even if it’s caused by their own idiocy.”

#mfmm #my fic

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