We bought a house. It is cosy – 3 rooms fewer than our last one, all rooms several feet smaller – but it is perfect and it feels like home.
At least, it will do when we can eventually move in.
See, we actually got the keys to the house last November, and with plans to rip up all flooring, decorate each room, and chuck in an Ikea kitchen, we fancifully imagined ourselves spending Christmas in our new abode.
Carpets came up, furniture was moved from storage to the new living room. The bathroom was re-tiled and a new shower put in.
Three new windows were installed.
Christmas came and went. Wallpaper stripping brought about the need to re-plaster. A ceiling needed to be taken down and replaced. Plaster dust filled the house. Cleaning was endless. Child care and work and, y’know, life, kept us from making much progress.
Eventually it was time to paint upstairs.
And now the kitchen is going in.
And the carpets are on order. Actually, the carpets were ordered back in November when we still thought the new year would be starting with a new address. We went to the shop we had placed our original order with only to find a ‘closed’ sign and weeks’ worth of post lying in the doorway. The phone was disconnected. All the signs of a midnight flit. Luckily we hadn’t paid any money, we only had to find another (hopefully more reputable) company.
I am struggling not to plan an Easter egg hunt in our new garden, but maybe I should be thinking about a joint house-warming and 5th birthday celebration for The Princess instead.
Or is July still a little optimistic?
Disclaimer: it does sound like the house is just getting on and renovating itself, but I should point out that The Husband is doing all the hard work, with help from various kind people. And I’ve done a bit of cleaning. Joint effort, really.