I had such an odd dream last night. I quite often have utterly random dreams (like the one I had a while back, where I was entertaining the painter, John Constable's son, and really worried about meeting his father - that was pretty odd) and this most recent offering continues the trend.
I was the proud owner of a really swishy flat that was being, yes, you guessed it, renovated, but the builder had added in loads of strange things without consulting us, such as thermostatically controlled heated dining room seats that warmed your bum cheeks when you sat down and shower heads that jetted water all over the bathroom. It was, on the face of it, a fairly bizarre thing to be dreaming about. I woke up feeling oddly panicked. Have I checked our dining room chairs, just to make sure that the BFG has not secreted special heated pads underneath them? No. Have I had a peep in the box that contains our shower head, to check it's normal? Very nearly. But I resisted. Fortunately good sense got the better of silly paranoia, for once.
It was wonderful to enter the house yesterday (after a lovely day visiting my sister again - lovely even despite D breaking a plate and managing to hurl polenta cake crumbs all over himself, the table, the neighbouring tables and the people sitting at the neighbouring tables in a cafe...) and see what had been going on though.
In short, the kitchen is really starting to take shape - wall units are sprouting up all over the place and the cooker is in! Oh and it is a BEAUTY! For anyone who thinks cooking is about as fascinating as watching two fat blokes idly playing snooker in a pub, they will not be able to understand my elation at this piece of equipment. To others, it is just a metal box that heats up. To me - it is endless possibilities, all resulting in hugely delicious things that I can ram into my greedy chops. Oh it is so shiny as well! So shiny and so new! I give it...oooh....two weeks before I make it look filthy and food spattered.
And apparently, by the end of the week, we should have a functioning kitchen, sink and cooker and everything! It is quite remarkable how badly you can miss a sink when you have to wash up in the bath every night. (and then have a bath in the same bath, and try to ignore the bits of floating food that drift around you.)
My mother asked me recently if I was pleased that we had opted to go down this route - of buying a sh*theap of a house and doing it up, rather than just buying a house already in good condition. It was a question that made me ponder for a bit. Yes, there have been a few moments when I have wrung my hands in my hair and wanted to scream 'what are we doing??' at the top of my lungs, but mostly, no regrets at all. There is something enormously fun, not to mention priviledged, in being able to create your home exactly how you want it, to fit in with your lifestyle and your requirements. So nope, no regrets - I am starting to very much love this house! Particularly the literary connection to Thomas Hardy...I am convinced that we have Charles Lacey's friendly ghost up in the attic, no doubt shaking his head at all the mess we are making of his old abode!
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