As my regular reader knows, I have been renovating. Well not me actually – I have just been wringing my hands and suffering from tension headaches and a neck so stiff that I have to wear a rear view mirror on a visor to see what is happening behind me.
And now the renovation is nearly over. In fact it is so close to completion that I can almost smell it. That could however be the smell of wet paint or wood glue or sadly even the compost they have laid over my lawn. Yes, I have lawn.
It has been an exhausting process for my husband to project manage the build, work a more than full time job and console and placate me when I fall apart over the architrave choices and individual shutter slat sizes, but he has done it admirably and I am deeply in awe of the fact that he is only now falling apart – most men would have crumbled far earlier (particularly when we went over the over budget weeks ago) . No that was not a typo – we went over the budget more than once.
It has been tedious for Little Pencil who has had to be witness to far to large a display of door handles and light switches for a child of such a tender age.
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It has obviously been a grueling time for the builders because, er they have been building everyday.
And I should be jumping for joy because I can see the finish line and it is shiny and new but all I can think of is the fact that I have to pack and move again.
Brattish much?
My mum and dad spent almost 10 years renovating. It was a nightmare. It ended up that mum lived in her dream house for 12 hours before they moved overseas. She was so mad.
I think I have developed a renovation phobia. I always like things to be done for me 😉
xx
LOL. Moving is the pits. Almost worse than renovating. But imagine how good it will be in your new palace…Sooooo good.
Hooray for the finish line! When it was our turn my husband declared that seeing as I was (in his words) “visually retarded” he would not only project manage, he would also design and choose EVERYTHING. It was quite the experience watching the house take shape without having any idea what it was meant to look like at the end. True to his word, C selected and managed every last detail, from the French mantelpiece in the kitchen to the chandelier in our bedroom (no idea what he was planning *there*), from the taps and the tiles, to the appliances and the cushions, right down to those dividers you put in the utensil drawer to stop the wooden spoons fratenising with the garlic crush. Or maybe that’s just him. Whatever, every day was a lovely surprise, and I didn’t have to once go look at handles.
Enjoy your new home! xxx
Renovating is so much fun. Not. We’re the Buy And Do It Ourselves variety and I must say that it’s not one of my favourite things. Especially when 8 months pregnant.
But a house that is almost finished. Hurrah for you and the pencils, I say. And perhaps my house would be too if I could get my husband to stop working… because damn it, he has to do it all himself. xx