So, the living room. The magnolia paradise. The mellow yellow room of gloom. That room. It’s done. Mostly done. Done enough that I can sit back on the sofa and put my feet up without casting an analytical eye around the room and immediately wanting to get up and change something. Done enough for now then, let’s say. And it only took a mere six months … five months to faff about with paint samples only to opt for my usual pure brilliant white, three weeks to transform the walls at a pace of one coat per one small section every two days or so, and the remaining time to shuffle furniture one inch to the left and then back again. Speedy at making over rooms, I am not.
I've tweaked my 'about' page many times over the past three and a half years but one sentence has remained the same since the very beginning - 'I spend my free time out and about exploring the Welsh countryside or pouring over interiors magazines and trying, unsuccessfully, to hang wallpaper ... it defeats me every time.'
As we're days away from exchanging contracts on our new home (fingers crossed), I'm now allowing myself to actually imagine us living in it. House-buying is such a nerve-wracking process. Your head tries to remain in the present until the ink is dry and the money transferred but your heart moves on the moment your offer's accepted.
I just hope that I'm not tempting fate by mentioning it, trying to plan where all of our things will go, and yes, how we'll (I'll) decorate it. Don't worry, I'm not yet at the mood board/paint swatches stage. But as you can probably imagine, I've reacquainted myself with Pinterest recently.