It seems we are not the only ones enjoying our new space.
Last night, as I sat quietly on the sofa in the kitchen swiping through pictures of 70’s swivel chairs on Ebay…. fruitlessly it would seem as it transpires that S is not a fan….I heard scratching.
The signs had been there.
The other night I had walked into the kitchen to find S frozen to the spot staring at the kick board.
“I saw something” he had said, eyeing me knowingly.
Memories of a hellish time last year as we sat in an awkward, smelly, unfamiliar house with mice running rampant flooded back.
“I thought I saw it run here” he said signalling towards the corner beneath the sink, “but its impossible…I mean where would it go? It can’t get anywhere…?”
We both stood still for a moment longer before convincing ourselves that his eyes were clearly playing tricks. We resumed our evenings activities. Masterchef probably.
This morning, as I returned from nursery drop off I found a red faced P making himself a cuppa.
“I’m sorry…. you caught me” he said apologetically.
“You are more than welcome to make yourself one….any time” I’d reassured him, my eye flicking inexplicably to the sofa where I caught sight of what looked like a dropping. Or was it a smidgen of chocolate? Picking it up tentatively I examined it closely as P spoke of walls and doors and twobyone and plasterboard…..my mind distracted. Eventually I decided on the chocolate, disposed of it, washed my hands and went up to investigate the work of which he spoke. The new bathroom wall in frame form had taken its bite of the existing spare bedroom so I could see just how much we’d be losing. Or gaining …..depending on which camp you belong to. This evening as I animatedly showed S the size of our lovely big shower it was clear which I affiliated with. As he surveyed the remaining room noting aloud its substantially smaller dimensions…theres a fake chimney breast to go in yet as we have chosen to reuse (this time) a small cast iron fireplace we had to take out in order to gain the space we needed…. I realised he was on the bedroom’s side. However, we both eventually agreed that its still, in estate agent speak, a ‘very good double’ and as a spare room it will more than suffice.
Whilst upstairs with P talking through the space and measuring up the shelf above the sink and loo so I can see about purchasing some sort of suitable wooden top, we discussed the positioning of the sanitaryware, most notably the toilet.
“I’ve noticed that the window on the plans doesn’t include the frame” I warned P, “so the loo is going to stick out a fair bit in front of it. Probably fine but don’t be alarmed when you compare it to the drawing”
“I did wonder” he said “why you aren’t having a concealed cistern?”
“K hates them” I replied “and encouraged us not to”
“I know he does, I know he does” he nodded emphatically, “but he’ll be putting one in my new place whether he likes it or not. Seems a bit funny not to have one here considering you have the recess in which to hide one.”
I looked. He was right.
“I’ll talk to K” I said nodding my agreement, “it would look much better”
“Listen…I’ll have a word with him” he said with a scheming wink “and I’ll tell him it would be crazy not to. We’ll get this sorted.”
Safe in the knowledge I had a partner in crime, I went downstairs to begin my work for the day.
My first job, a third coat on the ceiling, was my least favourite. Entertained by comical podcasts of my choosing rather than the eclectic musical selections of C’s, I completed it fairly easily by midday. The second step was to get a first coat of Eico green on the walls which would require both a steady hand and a decent brush in which to cut in the deeper colour to the now crisp white of the coving. The steady hand I had having had only one coffee thus far. The brush I hadn’t. Jumping in the car I whizzed to B&Q to purchase a high quality, tapered tipped version and whilst there loaded up with door handles and tile adhesive, killing I thought, a few birds with one stone. Fumbling about in my bag at the cash desk I realised with annoyance that my purse lay on the table back home. Vexed, I dumped my armload down and hurried to the car to raid the parking pot of change which luckily relinquished a few quid..enough to buy the essential brush. Painting could resume.
With the first coat on and only minutes left before I needed to leave the house I surveyed my work. My confidence demonstrated in yesterday’s “Duh, S, its going to be beautiful” had evaporated. The sample, once again, hadn’t quite given the effect of a full room of the colour and I berated myself for not really being very good at this malarkey. Taping up a sample of both the wallpaper and darker chimney breast colour alongside the painted walls I stared at it again. Would it work? I tried going out of the room and coming back in again. Did it match? I wasn’t sure I knew. Retrieving a framed photo destined eventually for the alcove, I placed it on the mantelpiece to see if having something else in the room distracting the eye would help me decide if the colours as a background rather than as the main event could work. I didn’t know.
I shared my quandary with S on his return home.
“Just bloody paint it. You are going mental” was his sympathetic response followed by the more reassuring “Have faith in yourself…you thought it would work and it will”
With mice having now arrived to do the job of making me mental, I think I can relieve the paint colours of the task.
Bloody paint it I will do.
The lounge colour….thoughts?
A moodboard of sorts….looks ok here I think?
This one needs a bit of imagination….it’s the view from the bedroom so this frame will become the new wall, shower just behind then the bath, loo and sink area behind that
View from the bath area, this is the shelf which will eventually now conceal the toilet cistern
The shower…not looking too spa-like just yet but gives an idea of the proportions