The floors and walls are back on and sealed and ready to tile.
I don’t know why the builders keep telling me they’ll be here at 7.30 every morning when they obviously have no intention of ever doing so. I don’t know why I keep getting up early to be ready for them, although of course the day I don’t they’ll be bashing on the garage door at 7am.
There is an evil sort of smell coming up through the hole where the toilet should be and I’ll be glad when that’s covered up, hopefully on Friday although we are one day behind because the cement floor needed two days to dry instead of one.
Last December I found a builder who told me he’d renovate my bathroom in February. In February he told me he couldn’t do it anymore, apparently something bigger and better came up – well sort of. The job he was doing ran overtime and the next big one was due to start and he’d thought he could fit me in between the two but he couldn’t. I wasn’t too annoyed because he was doing it as a favour for a mutual friend. I spent March not worrying about it but then decided last week that I really needed to get things moving because it is a feral little place.
So I rang another builder last Thursday who came around and gave me a quote that day, we signed the contract on Friday and they turned up on Monday and got started.
This was the bathroom Monday morning.
Worst shower in the world!! It’s like a capsule – a tiny capsule with a damp clingy shower curtain
This was the bathroom yesterday.
Not only the worst shower but also the most dangerous. As you can see the last guy who renovated decided that the best place to run the electric cable for the office power points in the room next door would be between the floor and the shower capsule. Right next to the drainage outlet.
Wayne (the guy who owned this house) obviously had some issues with his builder.
Yesterday the plumber came and did his thing and today they are here putting the walls and floor back on.
This is what I have to work with. As you can see it starts with a pale pinky/beige ceiling with a dirty beige trim then more pale pinky yuk followed by disgusting brown strip. He then decided a darker army brown would be nice with a darker puke plum at the bottom all set off nicely with a floral frieze.
I do like the light though.
I’m laughing at our TV though – it’s about three hundred years old and it takes up about half the room. Lizzie said to me – haven’t you heard of plasma. Mind you she didn’t knock it back when I told her she could have it when we bought a new one.
When I took the frieze off I discovered this charming effect.
I’m really having trouble deciding on colours though – normally I just look at something and say – that’ll do but because I have to match three rooms somehow it’s trickier this time. I know what colour I want the walls – it’s a blue/green colour, it’s all the wood thats throwing me a bit.
Undercoating starts after lunch, have to go meet my Mum for lunch first.
Nothing worse on a cold winters morning than a wet cold shower curtain wrapping itself around your legs for the duration of your shower.
I’m sick of that bloody thing. Every day it’s waiting to take up the fight.
We’ve been thinking about getting solar panels on the house; had a couple of quotes, but I think what I’d rather spend my money on is a bathroom renovation. Not only so I can avoid having to climb into a bath and be attacked by a shower curtain every day but just because it’s big and old and badly designed. Hmmmmmmm decisions decisions.
Today is a double whammy in the battle of the manchester because I’m going to change my doona cover as well (or quilt cover I think you people who can’t speak Australian call it). It’s always a bastard of a thing to put back on as well; it’s always up for a fight. I used to let my husband put it on but he persists in putting it on the wrong way. I’d always say – but can’t you see it’s in there sideways, what do you think all the bulky bits in there are and he’d say – you just need to shake it a bit.
It’s where ever your big beautiful comfy king sized bed is.
And that’s not where I am at the moment. I’m back painting again at the new house, (we’re moving in next week) so my bed isn’t with me. And I didn’t think it would be possible to find anything more uncomfortable to sleep on than The Futon From Hell, but not only did I find it, I bought it. And I’m currently lying on it.
It’s a sofa lounge. We decided we needed a sofa lounge because we won’t have any spare rooms and so we bought a sofa lounge to put in the office. It’s a lovely lounge, but a really shitty bed. But it’s not the only reason I wake up exhausted. It seems that we have a monkey living in the ceiling. And he enjoys a game of tennis at about 2am. Then he has a bit of a rest before he does a spot of marathon training at 4am. It makes some mad noises up there. I was lying here the other night thinking WTF? I even sent my daughter Kimba a text saying – are you throwing a tennis ball against your wall? She wasn’t. So we’ve put some poison up there and hopefully we kill a giant rat and not a monkey or a possum or the next door neighbour Poppy’s cat.
The other day Daz and I were talking about the painting that still had to be done and he said – I think I’ll leave the gorilla there. And I thought wow, we’ve upgraded from a monkey to a gorilla. But then I remembered the ladder is called the gorilla.
It all reminded me of the kids book – There’s a Hippopotamus on Our Roof Eating Cake. That was a good read.
Can someone please come over here and kick me and remind me of the time two years ago when I said I’d never paint the interior of a house again. Then can you give me a neck massage because it’s all crinked up from painting a bastard angled ceiling.
I’m back in the house of pink and puke painting what will be our bedroom. I’m really wishing that Wayne, who owned the house previously, did not have such a love of the wallpaper freize. I’m sick of scraping them off. And I was alarmed the other day when an architect friend of ours told me that wallpaper is making a comeback. Must make a note to myself to never buy a wallpapered house.
So as you can see he carried on the pink and puke colour scheme but added a nice brown feature wall. If I had to name the colour I’d call it – Baby needs to get to a doctor soon diarrhea colour.
And there’s just so much to paint. Two doors, a window, beams, sloping ceiling. And it’s busy on the ceiling with lights, fan, alarm. Mind you I wouldn’t turn the fan on, it has about twenty years of dust attached to the blades.
Lol at the red feature strip. That was under the freize. It was nicely done wasn’t it.
And then there was a section of the wall that was covered in mirror tiles and when I pulled them off I found this little disaster.
I don’t think any amount of spakfiller and sandpaper will make that pretty again. Actually do you know whats harder to get off than a freize? Those little double sided tape things that he stuck the tiles on with. Luckily most of that will be covered by a built in robe.
and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except Chicken Little who said
No More Paparazzi Please
Anyway I need to get busy. I’ve been away for three days and now I have to get ready for christmas lunch tomorrow with my funny group of sixteen. We have my family of five, my friend Bubbles and her family, My other friend Cath, her two kids, her father and our friend Neil who is Cath’s recently ex husband. Then there is our other good friend Shane who is also our brother in law and who is also recently separated from Daz’s sister.
We have an enormous leg of ham in the fridge to put on the bbq. It’s wrapped in a garbage bag in the fridge and every time I open the door I think Dexter’s been in the house. But I think I’ll start with the potato salad.
So I want to wish all my Vox and WordPress and Blognow and WhitePage blogger buddies, and my family and friends who read this a very merry merry christmas and happy new year. As Jeff Fenech would say – I love youse all.
Well he turned up on time and then he did a shit in my toilet. Not only did he shit in my toilet, he used all my toilet paper. Yesterday I knew I was going home today so I was rationing the toilet paper. So I was pretty annoyed when I had to make a special trip to the shops to buy more because he’d used every last scrap in the house. Also disturbing was the fact that my bath towel hangs near the hand basin so I couldn’t use it last night because I thought carpet man might have used it after he washed his hands. I’m assuming he washed his hands.
It all seemed unnecessary. I mean people usually have some sort of poo schedule don’t they? You usually have some idea when you’re going to go. This guy rang me at 8am to say he was on his way. He arrived fifteen minutes later, spent five minutes unpacking his truck, then asked me if he could use the toilet. Couldn’t he have just done it at home before he left?
Over the years I’ve spent many days with tradesmen and they’ve very rarely even used the toilet. I thought they must have just been doing a wee around the side of the house when they needed to. When they’re there I always ask them if they want a drink and I show them where the toilet is. But I’ve never before had one of them arrive and then go straight in to do his morning crap!