We now have a beautifully painted ceiling with newly installed coving and an Edwardian ceiling rose. It’s almost as good as the Sistine Chapel, at least we think so!
The new plaster is drying and feels like glass. The walls are ready for painting.
Ceiling rose all ready for a pendant light
Obviously the door still needs to be hung, the new radiator installed and final fit electrics but this room is getting close to being finished.
Only six more to go!
Ah, the smell of wet plaster takes me back to a time four years ago when we were plastering during our last refurbishment. We finally felt we’d turned the corner.
This time we’re doing this differently and it’s a room by room refurb as we plan on moving rooms as we go. This is our future bedroom but it may become our living room for a few weeks while we get going on that room.
After four years I’d forgotten how much I dislike the smell of wet plaster but it has to be done and with coving to install later this week and final fit electrics including my newly assembled pendant light, we’re inching forward at least in this room.
It’s always good to remember where we’ve come from…
In a moment of excitement, I had ordered a new light from West Elm, a furniture company I like and after a couple of misdeliveries including a set of curtains I hadn’t ordered, it arrived. Flat packed. I hadn’t read the small print… assembly required.
Each rod had to be screwed into the central ball and each formation attached to the rod. It was a bit of an IQ test but I got there eventually and am excited to get it installed one of these days.
One piece of good news is that we were sent another one by mistake.
It’s a moral dilemma of course but how much easier would it be to assemble a second one?!
What to do…
Sunday was a glorious taste of Spring with blue skies, sunshine and a chance to go out without a jacket.
While tempting to stay at home and peel a little more wallpaper off the ceiling, we decided it was essential to go for a walk and enjoy the day.
We now live quite close to St. John’s Wood and have discovered a fabulous Jewish deli called Panzers. Delicious and authentic New York bagels, smoked salmon and for Big T, a salt beef sandwich.
From there we did the washing (fun!) and then set off along the canal to Regent’s Park where Agnes was allowed to run off lead and behaved well for any breed but for a Welsh Terrier, she was impeccable.
We were all happy and very tired after our six mile walk.
It’s that time of year again, by 6pm there’s light on the horizon and after five months of dark cycling, there’s a sense of relief that the end is in sight.
Another month and I’ll be celebrating as the clocks will be going forward and there’ll be seven glorious months of light. It might not be sunny or warm but at least there’ll be light.
I’ll be throwing off the layers of HeatTech tights, top, gloves, scarf, wooly hat, socks, high vis reflective jacket, helmet and everything needed to get through a winter of cycling. It’s all about having the right clothes and I spend my time changing, cycling gear into work clothes and back again.
At least I hope I’ll be warm enough to take something off, there’s no guarantee!
I am officially in detox and recovery.
I strained a muscle in my lower back doing the laundry which is rather painful and I spent the day at work with a large bag of frozen peas shoved down the back of my trousers and so by the end of the weekend, I felt quite broken.
Three days of celebrations. Three weeks of recovery,
At least that’s that for the birth of the Tessiah.
It was the last stage of the birthday celebration, a family affair with a bottomless champagne brunch.
Bottomless doesn’t mean you’re not wearing bottoms, it means there’s a continuous flow of champagne for a specific amount of time, start your engines chaps, it’s two hours of speed drinking.
Or not! I’ve learned my lesson over the years and now pace myself with a modified intake as too much champagne is not a good thing, although it’s not as bad as too much gin!
Here we go!
What a weekend of extremes!
From drinking martinis on Friday at Claridge’s, to sitting at the laundrette on a wet Sunday morning doing the weekly wash.
A varied reality indeed!
As we won’t have a kitchen (or a washing machine) for a while, this is a weekly occurrence which means dragging bags of washing down to the coin laundry at the end of the road.
It’s not bad but things just aren’t as clean as they are when they’re washed at home and it’s an ongoing challenge trying to stay on top of the dirt.
This week we’re hitting the go button on a few projects as we’re moving forward on the other rooms in the flat including the bathroom.
We starting work with an interior designer, we’ve chosen paint colours and we’ve partly rewired two rooms so far, we’re hoping we can move into our master bedroom in the next couple of weeks!
And yes there is a hole in the floor where Big T stood on a chair.
The birth of the Tessiah continued on Saturday as we set off for afternoon tea at The Delaunay.
Admittedly it had been given to me as a Christmas gift by my colleagues but it seemed like a good idea to save it for an event bigger than Christmas!
We were (well, I was) still a little fragile but a small glass of Champagne with sandwiches, scones and cakes seemed to help. My only criticism, not enough savoury elements as I don’t have a sweet tooth.
We did discuss at length how to eat a scone. Big T ate his like a sandwich with the two side slapped together with jam and cream whereas I go open faced with jam and cream applied to both sides therefore getting twice as much topping. Seems obvious.
As for whether it’s jam first or cream first, I’m a jam first person whereas the sandwich method makes the whole argument redundant.
After all that we were exhausted and very happy go home for a quiet evening of recovery…in preparation for part three, the bottomless Sunday brunch. Oh my liver!
Each February 8th we celebrate the birth of the Tessiah, that’s right it’s Big T’s birthday.
It is bigger than Christmas around here and last night was no exception.
We started with outrageously expensive martinis at Claridge’s, followed by sushi at our favourite London sushi restaurant and finally a treat as I always make us go on public transport, a black cab home.
It was a lot of fun but I’m going to confess that after the sushi it all got a bit hazy and one of us was perhaps a little under the weather as martinis are very strong indeed and one’s constitution is not.
Still, we made it home in one piece (sort of) and looking at the receipts this morning, the damage wasn’t too bad although I suspect my liver might not agree!