I ought to be writing about the kids and our lovely visit to Grandma’s but I have much rambling to do first, on the topic of loftiness.
Most importantly – Oh joyous day! The scaffolding is supposedly coming down today and tomorrow. It’s taking its time but we’ll soon have daylight for the first time in many weeks. Our festering pit of domestic squalor will be an illuminated festering pit!
After that we’ve still got another couple of weeks of man-tramping around the flat before things will start to look reasonable. Right now the place is an utter tip and our living space is full of the aftermath of plastering and demolishing. (+ toys, obv.) The baby has become a sort of mobile duster. We can either let her loose and watch her feet turn steadily black or shunt her from one captive state to another without letting her touch the floors or walls. I have no idea how we’re going to keep her from touching the slow-drying paint when the banisters and door frames get done.
The kitchen is looking especially squalid this week as we’ve had the chimney breast knocked out and our big cupboard demolished.
For most people this would be an unenthralling piece of home improvement but for the spatially challenged it’s a cause of much excitement!
“Ooh! The space! The space!”
“Just look at it! Is that 9 extra inches?”
Our cramped little corridor into the kitchen suddenly feels palatial, albeit with chunks of floor missing and pipes sticking out of the wall. We still haven’t worked out what on earth to do about that end of the flat. Every time we look at it we start wanting more walls demolished. For now every single surface is covered with the evicted contents of the old cupboard and we have nowhere to put it all.
Meanwhile this is how the loft room is looking…
I swear it gets smaller with every coat of paint. I’m starting to feel like a giant up there. (NB: I am not a giant).
This morning one of the builders asked what colour to paint the room and I had absolutely no idea. (He going to paint it white, of course). I’ve somehow failed to think about things. It crept up on me while I was busy nursing whimsical notions, such as whether to paint the kids’ bedhead wall to look like the night sky, with gold stars and a tree silhouette and maybe a couple of nocturnal animals… and fairy lights. I doubt that’s in the builders’ repertoire.
Almost every room in the flat has been affected by new walls, plumbing or pipe removals. We’re going to have to re-paint our living room, hallway and kitchen. And probably bathroom too, come to think of it. And we’ve got to hurry up and choose a carpet for the loft stairs. And find a magical way to stop the hallway from resembling the Black Hole of Calcutta once the doors get hung.
So far the only thing I’ve managed to form a concrete opinion on is door knobs. But it’s a start.
If only I could be more like our downstairs neighbours. They have many opinions. And they’re not at all afraid to share them. They make Ivana Trump look low maintenance. (Apparently our building work gave them all colds). But, then, if we will insist on fracking in their back garden and dumping nuclear waste in their kitchen sink…
Now that the scaffolding is coming down, we might have to find some new ways to annoy them. I’m thinking of forming a family tap-dancing troupe, Von-Trapp style. What say ye?
As for the kidbots, they had such a lovely visit with Grandma last week. The weather was amazing and we might as well have been in France. Matilda had her first chance to wear her swimsuit and run about on the beach. And it was so nice to get together with family and see the kids all playing together. And just to sit in that glorious, dreamy garden. G and I even went to the theatre for the first time in forever. (The Ladykillers – was v. good)
Obligatory Devon pics…
The boybot remains obsessed with all things nature (and Pokemon) and has collected loads of feathers lately, including parakeet, eagle owl, seagull, and a fantastic spotty woodpecker’s one, courtesy of Granny. He spent this morning busily sticking them all in his nature explorer’s scrapbook. Bless. He’s also been fervently ticking things off in a little wildlife ‘I Spy’ book that he got from his big Sis.
Tilly-Tantrum seems happy enough to be back at nursery, though her Toddler PMT is not improved by the recent flurry of teething. Some days all it takes is the word “no” to trigger a full-body rage spasm in which she arches her back and thwacks her head on the floor. And the other day she objected so fiercely to having her nappy changed that she punched the floor and spent the next 2 mins clutching her sore hand and staring at me accusingly. The silly girlbot needs to learn some more words so that she can replace her tantrums with negotiation.
But mostly she’s a cheerful little thing …and so deadly cute, singing away to herself with her little hair sprouts and chubsticks. You’d forgive anything. She spent a lot of time at Grandma’s running around with a notepad and pen, looking as if she had busy things to do.
The rest of the school hols are looking like a melting pot of cobbled together childcare, shared between G, me and Fit for Sport. We’re hoping to visit Whipsnade before school re-starts and we’re also going to be joining some friends on a last little mini-break. A couple of nights in a self-catering place in the middle of nowhere. All we’ll need is a spot of serial killing and we could become the plot of Sightseers 2 – hooray!