Faith

From skirts to skirting boards

In Christmas, decorating, home, shopping on December 1, 2011 at 11:11 am

Bad times.

Last Saturday, I returned a dress that I really liked, because I thought I was being irresponsible buying two new dresses. Twenty minutes later, I spent £25 on lightbulbs. LIGHTBULBS.

The next day, I tried on the stunning blue velvet Charlotte Olympia-esque velvet shoes I’ve been coveting for weeks, and I didn’t buy them, even though they were just be-e-e-ea-utiful, because they were quite uncomfortable. I have at least three pairs of shoes in my wardrobe I’ve never worn because they’re so uncomfortable, so since when did that matter?

And then, yesterday, I’m almost too embarrassed to write it, I spent £300 on bannisters.

Let me tell you, I am rueing the day I started banging on about renovating our house. For the past year I have stomped and stormed about how much I hate the nasty decor and the boyfriend finally gave in. For a month now, I’ve been basically living in one room; the sitting room is empty, fire fitted, walls stripped and replastered. The conservatory is stacked with furniture and the kitchen is just a mess. My bedroom is the only room I see from dawn till dusk – and beyond.

This weekend, at least, the plaster will be dry and the painting will begin. The carpenter will fit my freakishly expensive bannisters, and next week, our new oak floor will be laid and our skirting boards fitted. And then – and I can’t tell you how excited I am about this – we can have the new radiators fitted. At present, it’s like living in a fridge. What possessed us to undertake this project in November and December I don’t know (Yes OK, I do. It was me saying I wanted it done by Christmas).

I know it’ll be worth it, I just hate the waiting. And the fact that my nails are all broken, I’m not getting to the gym, and that I’m having to forsake clothes in favour of wood varnish and light switches.

And yet, I don’t learn. Even though I can’t bear the disarray and the dust, I still want everything done at once. That’s why I bought all the bedding I wanted and why I waited for Adam to be otherwise disposed before sweet-talking his Dad into fitting the chandelier I bought weeks ago (which Adam kicked into the spare room and shut the door, I might add) for me. And doesn’t it look fabulous?

Oh, the lovely purple glamour of it

I confess, I wasn’t prepared for quite how much hassle it would be – it took a good two hours and that’s not allowing for the fiddling about with the crystals (I did that bit), and then I was slightly aghast at the £25 lightbulb revelation. But not as aghast as the discovery that there’s a fault and only one of the five lights works. I am acting oblivious, if it gets taken down, there’s a good chance it won’t get put back…

My current mission – and I do think that Adam will spontaneously combust if I push the issue, which has so far been met with a surprisingly loud ‘NO.’ – is to get a new floor fitted in the bedroom when the lounge flooring is replaced with lovely heritage oak and the stairs and landing is treated to a plush new coffee-coloured carpet. After all, it will just look scabby and untidy, will it not, on traipsing over all that loveliness to tatty old carpet?

I am currently torn between white limed oak and smoke brushed elm boards – rather rustic and gorgeous with the white furniture and deep purple accents, I think. All feedback welcomed.

Smoke brushed elm or white limed oak?

Although given that the bedroom is the one haven I have amidst the mess, maybe I am mad to even think of it.

In the meantime, I’ll just continue to oversee things in my supervisory, tea-making capacity, while demanding to know why everything’s taking so bloody long.

I’ll keep you posted.

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