Tuesday, 18 March 2008


Well. It was my 37th birthday yesterday. I have a distinct memory of sitting upstairs in my daughter's bedroom in early February, then being used as a kitchen, and wailing ' I just xxxxing well know I'm going to turn 37 sitting up here with no back on the house!'. It's lovely to be proved wrong.

It's not finished, by quite a long stretch, but we moved the furniture back in on the 14th ( I recommend OIS 'Green/Eco' Removals in Herne Hill by the way - cheap, polite and uncomplaining about the millions of boxes of books.) We had a brilliant weekend unpacking stuff we hadn't seen since July 2006, luxuriating in the underfloor heating and well and truly christening the brand new kitchen. Saturday 15th was incredibly serene - three of the builders were plastering in around the new sliding folding doors ( open in the sunshine), finishing off the Siberian larch cladding and drinking coffee with us while I unpacked the kitchen stuff. Marvellous. I wish I could bottle that feeling - you need to have lived four to one room for nearly eight months with no proper facilities to really appreciate the joy.

We still can't stand up in the shower - the white glass splashback that has been on order for months arrived on Thursday to great excitement. Much muttering in Polish ensued, always a bad sign - it turns out the suppliers have drilled the holes in the wrong place. Doh.

Our house seems to be on a local sightseeing tour - every time we go to put the rubbish out there seems to be at least one congratulatory onlooker. It's very affirming - I feel like we've made a positive contribution to the London streetscape, if nothing else! We certainly haven't made any money on the deal - I think we've ended up paying more than if we'd just bought a proper house like normal people, but it's been a real labour of love. The magnolia I planted the week the builders started has flowered brilliantly and amazingly - I can't quite believe it as it was under a layer of assorted insulation boards and lumber for most of the winter.

Loads more to do over the next few years - we need to do something about the master bedroom's horribly cracked ceiling, damp patches and avocado ensuite for a start, and the garden is a rubbish-strewn moonscape, but as we're not planning to move until the kids have grown up I'm hoping that means this house will satisfy my renovation urges for the next fifteen years or so.

I need to go and drive past our old house. For nearly two years I haven't been able to, as just getting the photos of it out was enough to fill me with dismay. Maybe in April after the front garden's been tidied up...

I'll put some photos up in the next few days. Thanks to everyone who sent me cheery and encouraging comments - it really helped!


Anonymous said...

Georgie the house looks fab and the tone in your posts has gone form despair to delight! Its no wonder having kept up with your posts and seeing the pics, any mum would struggle under the stress, i for sure would have been admitted to the local nut house (or maybe admitted myself to get from the dirt!) With the summer ahead it must feel wonderful to be living `proper` in the WH...looking forward to seeing more pics soon. Love Becky x

Natasha said...

I don't know how I ended up at your blog but I am so impressed with your house, your humour and your ability to survive. Am in the throes of something similar in France and whilst enjoying it to a certain extent my hair is curling a bit under the pressure. Can we see more pics?

Search This Blog


My photo
I'm 39 and married with two children aged seven and four. I'm fatally attracted to house renovation projects, and this is our third in the last seven years, my personal fifth since I bought my first flat in 1996. I think we might have bitten off more than we can chew with the Worst House.

Fame at last!

Fame at last!