It’s a year since we moved house and while it’s been slow, we’re finally seeing progress.
The bathroom is a very different experience to a year ago (thank god) no stench from the drain, kitty litter or handicapped power shower. The 1980s Japanese toilet is a distant (well, not distant enough) memory and the first day of cleaning it whilst wearing a cycling mask seems surreal.
Now we have glistening chrome taps, a wet room shower, under floor heating and a suspended toilet (certainly the nicest toilet I’ve ever lived with!) The shower cascades down a herringbone feature wall and soft lighting washes the wall. It will be quite a tranquil experience when its completely finished.
We now have new windows and a large mirror so that leaves the sink and floating shelves and the door. I’m looking forward to the door!
Continuing with the updates, the hall is now half plastered (much like myself) and the end is in sight for connecting the good rooms.
I’ve found the entry hall very depressing (first impressions and all that) as bare bricks and loose wires, while cool in a Soho loft, don’t really work in a Victorian mansion block.
The mess of removing the old plaster has been incredible and the dust endless so again, clean and clean and do it again. A seemingly futile exercise but necessary or it would be even worse. And so I roll up my sleeves every weekend and put in a few hours hard graft showering off thick layers of dust at the end.
There’s something quite unpleasantly nostalgic about the smell of wet and drying plaster (it tends to get into my lungs) but as the brown begins to lighten and (in the next week or two) will be ready for painting, a transformation will take place.
I shall soon fling open the front door with joy (once it stops sticking) and admire beautiful walls, elegant Farrow & Ball colours and round glass pendant lights leading the way to the kitchen.
Patience my friends, it’s been a long old journey.