Weep, Kevin McCloud, weep!

We've not done much but we've done a lot

It’s been exactly one year since we moved house. One year since we unpacked our belongings, found temporary homes for everything, and then slowly set about making over each room. The plans were grand. No wall would be left unpainted and no surface would remain in its previous-owner state. Tiles were to be taken up, carpets replaced, and kitchen cabinets primed. We would be busy, yes, but the results would be amazing. Ideal Home would come a knocking but I’d probably be too caught up with landscaping the garden to pose for photographs - they’d have to capture me candidly, cup of tea in one hand and pruning shears in the other.

However, there was one small, let’s call it a quirk, that we encountered pretty much immediately upon moving in that brought a halt to these amazing plans to conquer the renovating world and have Kevin McCloud weeping with awe and disbelief in to his latest copy of Architectural Digest.

And that quirk?

Well, I personally believe it’s the fault of poor schooling, but who knew there were only 24 hours in a day? Did you? Just 24! Crazy, right?!

I certainly hadn’t factored the insufficient time in each and every day to get absolutely anything and everything done. I’m not going to lie, I feel a bit cheated by this newfound knowledge. By the time I’ve looked after the boys, tidied up, worked, slept, ate a bit too much Haribo for a grown up, watched and rewatched Cold Feet to add to my list of restaurants and bars that I need to visit in Manchester, well I’m left with a mere 37 minutes and 24 seconds a day of prime decorating, renovating and landscaping time. And as those spare minutes generally occur at 11pm, they’re not exactly drill and hammer friendly moments, are they?

Instead of basking in grand design glory, I’m currently to be found looking forlornly at an unopened pot of sage green paint that I purchased last April and wondering what on earth went wrong. I fear that magnolia’s going to be back in fashion before I finally get round to ridding it from the walls in approximately 4 years time. I’ve seen those beiges and coffee colours creeping in to interiors magazines recently. It’s only a matter of time.

So, what am I to do? Give up sleep? Hire a decorator? Let the children run feral so I have more time? Employ the children? They’re pretty handy with paintbrushes, after all. Or maybe I should simply hang out at our home gin bar and insist that I’ve always loved off-white walls and blue tiles and letting the garden run wild is a conscious thing as it’s ‘good for the environment, don’t you know’. I’ll just let Kevin and Ideal Home know that I’m not quite ready for them yet. Cheers!

We've not done much but we've done a lot