The Room of Doom

I've been really busy lately doing things around the house in the run up to Christmas. This will be our first year here as a family. The boys go to their Dad's every two years and it so happened that Christmas 2015 was a Daddy year. Needless to say, I'm blooming excited! Last year we put the tree up in the worst room in the house, affectionately known as the room of doom. One day I hope to refer to it as the Withdrawing Room. Kind of a grown up hang out snug.

This room was absolutely drenched when we moved in. The fascias were trapping the rain in, where the outside render was taken right up to their edge. Rather than protecting the house, the result meant the water had nowhere to go but inside. When it rained the wall inside wept (at least that's how it felt)! Water would also pour down the chimney, pooling in the fireplace. The plaster and interior render had mostly blown and the room smelled very damp and musty. It had a kids dragon lamp hanging up as a makeshift light and the paint had flaked off and continued to do so. Meaning I'd have to hoover the walls to stop it continuously being all over the floors looking like a bloody snowstorm!.

I decided last week to give this room a patch plastering and pre Christmas lick of paint, it couldn't make it any worse Well, that turned into a slightly larger chore. This seems to happen every time I bloody touch anything!!! Dave said he just knew this was going to happen! Whilst knocking off the blown plaster I made the mistake of just investigating what was underneath it. I mean, I knew I'd have to replaster them anyway, so taking a little bit more off for a peek surely couldn't hurt, could it?

I knocked a wee bit of the plaster off, then a little of the render, oooh I found stone. I chipped away a little more...partly thinking what the hell have I started, as I had no plan and was, to be honest, just making a massive mess! As tends to happen, Dave came and started pulling bits off too. Then he went and found bolsters and chisels. We set to work. This was really hard going and I was regretting starting it after about 2 hours. I am however, VERY stubborn and wont be beaten by things. I called Dad and he bought over his hammer chisel drill. Now, this is possibly one of my favourite bits of kit for wrecking shit...IT ROCKS! Dave and I then took turns for as long as we could tolerate it ripping the concrete render off the walls! With ringing ears, throbbing elbows, new bruises and shredded hands, around 8 hours later we had exposed a beautiful Forest stone wall surrounding the old fireplace. It clearly had been damp for some time, needed some attention, but was a sight to behold. Jesus, we were knackered! I also had the small matter of patch plastering the other two walls still to do. Mind you, plastering small areas is nothing to me these days, so it was more fatigue than reluctance regarding that task! Even so, I had to finish the job, otherwise it would set me back another couple of weeks. Dave made up the plaster and I put it on the walls. Thankfully, its all rough plaster in this house, as my blistered hands had virtually given up the ghost by then.

This weekend I have painted the plastered walls, one a warm grey as I thought it would compliment the Forest stone, I will add some subtle stencil on this at some point (mixed from three odd chalk paint tins I had -, so I could never recreate that colour), the other white. The stone wall needs cleaning up, a hole rebricking and repointing, which may take some time. The edges of the ceiling on the stone wall need fixing and replastering, but I'm allowing the damp to dry out for another couple of weeks first. The floor has gaps going down into the cellar so it's a bit drafty, they will need filling. I'm actually debating using that vile expanding foam stuff as it will do the job quickly for winter. In the future I will look at getting a liner put down the chimney so we can use the wood burner, and maybe put some rattan carpet down, but finances wont permit that just yet.

The room is looking really cosy (even if it's bloody freezing)! I've put up new curtains, we moved the red Chesterfields (thanks again to Clive & Jess for the 2 seater) into the room and put an old trunk in as a coffee table. As usual I'll fill it with my hoarded vintage stuff, that's a given - I cant actually help myself! So even if we don't get it all done before December the 25th, it is liveable and the Christmas tree will look far cuter than it did last year not being covered in paint (snow)flakes!

*I'm writing this with gloves on and a glowing fire from the old rotten red shed beams on the wood burner. Free fuel!

Extremely damp walls and kids dragon lamp

Makeshift room, but the walls were still diabolical

Chipping off plaster but having a little excavation

Close up

Oooops it's started!

That was bloody hard work (the top hole needs bricking up)

Plaster patched and back together for the night. 

Grey wall and cosy curtains!

Vital statistics - floor plans

I thought I should do a post about the basic statistics and floor plan of the house.

It was originally on the market for £185,000 over a year before I bought it. It had a buyer, however it fell through as the mortgage couldn't be arranged. It then went to auction but didn't make the asking price. Amazing only by a really small amount, however the vendor wasn't happy to sell. I suspect by the time I came along everyone had given up on the place, so my offer was accepted - £30,000 less. I didn't push my luck by asking them to clear it, he wanted a quick easy sale, I wanted a quick easy buy.  So the following is the description and floor plan as it was in the advert when it was on the market. As you will see, true to most older houses the rooms are a good size in comparison to the boxes they build nowadays. 

Pilgrim Cottage

Key features

·         THREE BEDROOMS

·         THREE RECEPTION ROOMS

·         KITCHEN

·         BATHROOM

·         GAS CENTRAL HEATING

·         GOOD SIZED GARDENS

·         OUTBUILDINGS

·         POTENTIAL

Tenure: Freehold

ACCOMMODATION (Measurements approx)

Front door to –

DINING ROOM – 12’ x 11’2. Wood burning stove in stone fireplace with feature exposed stone wall, window with window seat, radiator.  Open plan to –

KITCHEN – 10’11 x 10’3. Fitted at wall and base level providing worktop and storage space, fitted oven, hob and hood, gas boiler for central heating and domestic hot water with feature stone mantle, window.

LIVING ROOM – 13’ x 12’. Window, radiator, arched alcove.

LOUNGE – 11’10 x 7’5. Radiator, fireplace.

First Floor:

STAIRS TO LANDING –Loft access.

BEDROOM ONE – 12’2 x 12’. Wall to wall wardrobes, window, radiator.

BEDROOM TWO – 12’ x 7’6. Window, built-in wardrobes, radiator.

BEDROOM THREE – 12’ x 11’. Two windows, radiator.

BATHROOM –Three piece suite in white, radiator, tiling to walls, over-bath shower.

WALK IN AIRING CUPBOARD- Window, hot water cylinder.

OUTSIDE –Side pedestrian access to rear gardens with large outhouse and outbuildings.

Floor plan for 3 bedroom detached house - Pilgrim Cottage

A little lesson in flexible thinking & Mojitos

Something I discovered after moving in, is that the mental list I had been making of tasks that needed doing and in what order, would change on an almost weekly basis.

For someone who flirts with OCD and who can be pretty rigid in their ideas, this can be a tricky challenge. I am by no means a clean freak - far from it, I'm quite dirt blind. However, I do find too much clutter that isn't mine, or isn't in some kind of order can put me on edge. I tend to group things into piles, or sets, that way I know where things are most likely to be if they don't have a place just yet. I also like to do things in my own sweet way, it's probably deemed a little eccentric, I tend to live in my own time frame, but it works for me! I digress....

So, my list was not going to plan, and I slowly and grudgingly came to realise, that it probably never would. I diligently wrote down what I thought were the first jobs (all on the back of an envelope). This list then morphed into a new list (shortly after this I instated my 'list' book), as we discovered more pressing tasks to enable us to actually live in the property as a family. We also uncovered things I hadn't foreseen, or discovered that some tasks were far less urgent than we first anticipated. 

I rapidly needed to address my unwillingness to compromise, or risk being sectioned! I have a handy little trick I do in such situations now....I add things I've done to the list, then instantly cross through them! There... I've achieved! I have discovered that as long as I've done some things, I can be happy. Achieving nothing is what drives me bonkers, I like to sit down at the end of the day and gloat a little about how much I've accomplished. After all it means we are a few steps closer to living the dream. 

My advice to anyone thinking of taking on a renovation project is to BE FLEXIBLE. It is fast becoming my mantra and my sanity. Nothing will go according to plan. You will wildly under estimate timings, and run out of money. You will exhaust your supplies of paint; nails; screws; fittings and fixtures 20 minutes after the DIY store has closed for the long bank holiday weekend. You will pull a muscle, or crick your neck just as you are shifting your last wheelbarrow of rubble and be rendered useless for the next few days. It will never be straight forward, but if you think flexibly and have a bit of fun on the way (oh yes, sometimes it is f****ing hilarious)  then you will ensure at least a little bit of sanity remains. 

Oh and always have some of your favourite booze in the house. Mine is a damn fine Mojito. Here is a recipe for it:

Mojito is a traditional Cuban highball. Traditionally, a mojito is a cocktail that consists of five ingredients: white rum, sugar (I like brown sugar best), lime juice, soda water, and mint. 

Ingredients: A big old splash of white rum (this volume will depend on your stress levels), a few leaves of mint, soda water, some slices of fresh lime, 2 teaspoons sugar

Preparation: Mint sprigs muddled with sugar and lime juice. Rum added and topped with soda water. Garnished with sprig of mint leaves. Served with a straw.

Served: On the rocks; poured over ice, so it cracks nicely before you drink it in babeeee x

The Mojito of sanity & flexible thinking

Pro-cat-stination and other excuses....

On Sunday afternoon of September 11th 2016, we collected our new additions. Brother and sister gingers cats.  They are 11 and three quarter months old, and will have their first birthday on September the 18th. I have already discovered how difficult writing on a computer is with cats. The keyboard must have similar properties to catnip, as every time I sit down to type, one, or both, come and lie on it!

They are very beautiful rescue cats and unusually for rescues, they don't have a particularly sad back story either. Their previous owners got a dog that didn't get on with the cats. So they made a sensible decision to re-home them via the Cat's Protection League, allowing them to have a better family life. They were clearly very loved and handled a lot, as they are extremely affectionate moggy's.

I have had cats before and do enjoy the companionship of them (I must confess to being in the high risk category of being a mad cat lady. If I'm particularly annoyed or stressed, stupid cat and cute kitten YouTube clips always make me smile - goddamn I just typed that out loud didn't I)!! I like the fact they trip you up at the top of the stairs, shred toilet paper, knock things that interest them off the sides, misjudge leaps and try to steal anything you are eating that they think actually should be theirs.

You may recall in the previous posting that we were going to rename the cats.
The male, who is enormous and has white socks, bib and tip of tail, is called Behemoth. After a demonic, firearm and vodka loving cat character in one of my favourite books, The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov.
The female, who is a dark ginger, with beautiful round amber eyes, is called Osiris, which could be considered a male name I suppose.... Osiris is the Egyptian God of the afterlife, the underworld and the dead, it is also my son, Jasper's, favourite Egyptian deity.

The cats have to stay in for two weeks to acclimatise to their new home, meaning we have to keep the doors and windows closed. Anyone that knows me, knows I was born in a barn, shutting doors and I just dont seem to mix well. If you're doing DIY and creating lots of dust, or lugging tools and so on around, the door needs to be open. Therefore since Sunday, and the imposed lock down, I've discovered a new noun related to my lack of DIY and more relaxed state. Pro-cat-stination. I walk by a cat, I have to smooth it, I sit down and a ball of fluff appears on my lap, a cat is sleeping on my bed - naturally I have to join it. This all takes time!

In my defense this is bonding, AND I did look up carbide drill bits on the screwfix website this morning.........

Osiris spying on the neighbours

Behemoth wondering if he can leap upwards safely

Behemoth on my bed

Beautiful Osiris

Chunky Behemoth

Pilgrim's pets, new cats and other animals I have loved

Growing up on a self sufficient smallholding meant that sometimes animals were my best friends. We had rare breed pigs (Berkshires & Middle Whites), Dexter and Jersey cows, Welsh badger faced sheep, Golden Guernsey goats, horses, donkeys and an array of ducks, chickens, geese and turkeys. Including a prize winning bastard of a Bronze turkey stag called Sodom. Mum delighted in giving the animals 'unusual' names, we had a pair of Blue Pekin bantams called Anthony and Cleopatra, a hideous Dorking cockerel called Killer, two very tame, very old black sheep called Evadne and Hilda after Hinge & Bracket. The pigs were named after flowers; we had Petunia, Tulip, Pansy and the beautiful Flower, the cows were Buttercup and Daisy and the oddly named Lady Diana, the donkeys were Daffodil & Jubilee, the lambs were all things like hotpot, mint sauce and rosemary, the geese were George and his ladies. I loved the cycle of life with animals, staying up all night with a farrowing sow and catching newborn piglets in your arms, clearing the mucus from their airways and hearing that first piglet squeak always delighted me.

We also had numerous rescue dogs, cats and house rabbits too, they have always been a big part of Mum & Dad's life, Dad lovingly endures it, Mum adores it! The dogs have varied from Pekingese to Newfoundland's and every type in between. Each pet having a rescue story and a unique personality, and each stealing a little bit of our heart. Safe to say the animals ruled the house, at one point we had 9 dogs and they all wanted a space on the sofa!

Growing up in this way did mean I felt a little different to my friends. Their houses were always much cleaner, and they didn't have broody coops, or heat lamps with boxes of teeny chicks huddled under them in their bedrooms, or incubators in their hallway, or newborn early spring lambs warming in the bottom of the Rayburn. Sometimes I longed for a matching dressing table set, but I'd have probably put my wellies all over it, and my friends were always quick to come over to our house rather than hang out at theirs!

It was therefore, only natural that when I left home at the tender age of just 18, I would end up accumulating pets. I had loads of pet rodents, rats, Siamese ones, brown ones, albino and hooded. Hamsters, Dwarf and Siberian and gerbils. You could barely get into my room at university and all night I could hear the comforting sound of gnawing bars, happy rat chattering and squeaking exercise wheels. I missed the open spaces of home, but these little ridiculously named buddies were my sanity - my room smelt like home!

Fast forward several years on and we find ourselves in a new house and with a new family of pets. Most of the animals we live alongside now are wild. We have Richard and Judy the obese wood pigeons who live in the huge listed Silver Birch near the garage. Richard is a slapstick genius, often you hear him flapping about as he falls off his branch when dozing off. We have King Tut & Cleo the blackbirds, he's quite a gent and seems to collect food for both of them and ensure the coast is clear for her. Mr Robin who always has a beady eye on the comings and goings of us humans, the shy hedgehog Tiggywinkle family, the unnamed slugs, collectively known as the slimy plant wreckers (ugh, but good for the hogs), and lots of beautifully busy and abundantly fluffy bumble bees, all called the Bee Gees. We also have a lovely little black hamster called Mordecai. She resembles an inquisitive, velvety little mole and chews anything she can get her little paws on!

Tomorrow we are getting two new additions.....I promised the boys that once the worst of the building work was done - ie the roofing, meaning no more scaffolding, we would get a cat. True to my word, we met with two lovely ladies from the cats protection league this week (strangely I'd met one of them before when I was 19 and got run over by a drunk lorry driver. She'd been the driver of the car he'd hit before he'd knocked me off my pushbike). They vetted the house and us. I cringed a little showing them into the sitting room, which is full of my taxidermy pets (these weren't my actual pets, just rehomed vintage taxidermy pieces). I laughingly reassured them that this wouldn't be the fate of any adopted puss we had! We passed, and they tantalised us with pictures of sweet whiskered felines, looking for love. They showed us photos of a brother and sister who couldn't be separated, who were just under a year old and very playful. Both marmalade coloured, ginger mogs, with big amber glowing eyes. Our hearts were stolen. We went to meet them them on Thursday and they put on a fabulously, tarty display. Rolling around, batting us with sweet white tipped paws and purring loudly....well, how could we resist! All being well they will start settling in with us tomorrow, and as is our family tradition, their names will be Behemoth and Osiris. xxx

Dennis Wheatley - my taxidermy 'pet' goat x

Pilgrim Cottage

The reason I named this blog Pilgrim's Progress is down to the name of the house - Pilgrim Cottage, a blog by any other name would not be as sweet! 

I think parts of the dwelling are actually very old, 1800's would be a guess. It has a tiny tin church two houses down called Bilson Mission, this was originally built in 1880 as a place of worship for the travelling community. It makes me wonder if my house welcomed weary travellers in for some food and shelter. I will, at some point, go to the local council and look up any historic records I can find as I'd love to know more about its history. 

The house has fallen in to quite a state of disrepair as you will have gathered, and was advertised as needing 'complete modernisation' (although I don't like that word). So as you can imagine dear reader, it needs a hell of a lot of work doing to it on an extremely limited budget (luckily I have a very dedicated Dad and partner, and I'm a bit of grafter, so between us we make a really hard working team). I will recycle, upcycle, repurpose, make do and mend, teach myself new skills and all those other things us slight eccentrics do, with gusto until we get there...I actually derive a ridiculous amount of pleasure from this way of living, and ultimately it will give me more satisfaction as it does all come together.

I think this renovation will be a labour of love over many years (I'm really impatient so patience is a skill I'm learning), but it has heart and soul already. It has obviously been the subject of great affection, even if it hasn't been nurtured for innumerable years. Families have come and gone, some with sad stories from what I've heard, but I also feel sure there have been many happy times too. We've certainly filled it with love and laughter, along with drilling, plastering and paint fumes, over the last 12 months! We even managed a Christmas tree in the very dampest of rooms last December, it looked very festive and none of the fairy lights shorted out!

(ooops apologies for mentioning Christmas 17 weeks before I should do)!

I think these lines sum up how I feel about this long term, lifetime renovation project beautifully!

“This hill though high I covent ascend;
The difficulty will not me offend;
For I perceive the way of life lies here.
Come, pluck up, heart; let's neither faint nor fear. ” 
― John Bunyan, The Pilgrim's Progress

29th of August....

...on this day in history: 

• 1923 Richard Attenborough was born 
• 1950 British troops arrive in Korea to bolster the US presence there during the  Korean War (incidentally my Grandad went there with the Glorious Gloucester's Regiment and got shot in the buttocks)
• 1953 the USSR explodes its first hydrogen bomb
• 1964 Mary Poppins is released on film
• 2015 I get the keys to my first house!

It's raining hard and the door is so swollen we cant get in!

Dad comes and shoulder barges the door, we get in! There is no electric, no running water, mould all over the walls and the boiler needs condemning....I adore it! 

The boys come and have a good look around with me, but sadly it is too unsavoury for them to move in just yet. Mum cooks a huge everlasting vat of curry for the workers and we have copious bottles of fizz ready for the evening. My adored, and long suffering friends and family*, now spend the next few days moving and handling the previous god knows how many tenants, discarded rubbish out, and my treasured museum of important shit (along with all the other less exciting life essentials such as plates, beds and wardrobes) in. The boys will stay with Nanny and Grandad for the next six weeks. Now the hard work begins!! 

*As a side note during this time I met my partner in crime Dave, we have known each other since we were at secondary school (over 30 years ago), so I hope he didn't get too many horrific suprises! He was hoping this sentence read more like this...'a roguishly handsome, yet sensitive goth fell for me along the way...xxx

Approval & The Museum of Important Shit

Despite the horror stories we are so often told the sale completed within 6 weeks. With only one minor hitch, although it felt pretty major at the time, especially as I was due out of the country! 

The mortgage company miscalculated my income taking it as every 4 weeks rather than monthly - it makes all the difference apparently, cue overnight panic and palpitations. Luckily Nigel, my cool as a cucumber mortgage broker told me to enjoy my holiday and that he would sort this. He dutifully did and I received a calming call from him just as I stepped off the ferry in France, saying the mortgage had been approved. Cue desperately needing an excited wee and more palpitations! I think the kids and I squeezed each other till we popped and screamed a lot at this point! 

Some of my fabulous friends (Neil, Dave and Annabel) back in the UK were coming in everyday packing up bits and bobs of the house where we lived for me. Being arty and very visual, I have the capacity to get monumentally sidetracked with tasks such as this. Musing over where I got something, the memories attached to it and the people it may remind me of. Everything tells a story, My friend Neil claims it's procrastination at it's finest! I say bits and bobs, OK, they packed 90% of my stuff, for which I am forever grateful (thanks lovelies). I am, it turns out, a boderline hoarder. Rather like Nick Cave's Museum of Important Shit in 20,000 Days on Earth, I too have my own important shit (I have also been on earth for 15,744 days just in case you idly wondered that)! I've collected things that would look wonderful in a painting for years, all in preparation for this dream of mine! If I ever decided to take up dusting it would be a potential nightmare darlings! The house was also disguised as a Tardis, and I am a squirrel, I can bury things in the smallest of places in order to fit it all in. I will never know how I owned so much stuff in such a limited space. I gave plenty to charity shops, but no matter how much I claimed to declutter (often met with giggles or sighs of relief from Annabel), I still seemed to own A LOT!! Surely most of it was the children's...??

I digress...by the time I got back to the UK two weeks later, the packing was almost complete, the solicitor was on the case and I had given my months notice on the house we were living in. The dream was coming true!! 

Deep thought...and buying a house...

So there I am aged 42 finding the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything...well perhaps it wasn't that deep....I was just hoping to put down some roots.

Finding out whether I could even get a mortgage was a scary prospect. I mean, I was a broke single mum and the government clearly detested women like me, whether I was in gainful employment or not! Ever the optimist, I hoarded together bits of paper proving who I was and that I was as skint as I said I was, and left it all in the capable hands of my warm hearted mortgage broker (no seriously, this guy was a legend). 

Here's where the funny chicken and egg thing happens with house buying, you have to put in an offer on a place, before you know if you can even get a mortgage...imagine the tension THAT causes! 

So anyway back to perusing for houses....I actually only looked at three in the flesh (or should I say bricks). One was adorable but small, and way out of my price range. Another was in the corner of a rundown cul de sac...shudder...The other was the most ramshackle, broken, overgrown, unloved, beautiful place I could imagine and it was just within what I could afford if I bartered. I'd actually seen it up for auction the previous October, thought wow that's perfect, but the timing was all wrong. I'd taken a day off work in the May and was round at my parent's drinking tea with all three of us idly looking on estate agents websites. Incredibly, we all seemed to be reading out details about the same house to each other. The same house from October... it hadn’t made the auction asking price so was back on the market with an estate agent! Mum decided we should go and look at it straight away so called the estate agent, who agreed to meet us at 'said house' within the hour! 

The deal was I took my parents with me to look at places as they will think with their heads, whilst I would most definitely be relied upon to buy with my heart!

We arrived, the place was huge, and a veritable Aladdin's cave of other peoples broken, discarded crap. Car doors, old tyres, a massive pile of smashed chairs, defunct, faded plastic kids toys....I looked through the window and saw the biggest Forest stone fireplace, with a Forest stone window seat. So many beautiful original features I could lovingly restore, AND a very broken two storey shed behind some overgrown trees and stinging nettles....I fell in love then and there! Mum & I gave each other a knowing look and I whispered some expletives to her excitedly. 

Driving back to my parents (a mere three miles away), I casually asked, would it be ridiculous to put an offer in right now? There were some more people viewing on the weekend, and I felt sure if they saw what I saw they would snap it up! My parents were as excited as I was, I asked Mum if she would make the call to put the offer in for fear I would vomit with exhilaration down the phone! The estate agent laughed and said 'that was quick!'

By the end of that day my offer was accepted (£30,000 less than the original asking price). So mortgage permitting the damp musty house, seriously leaning to one side two storey shed, fractured double garage, and battered workshop all containing huge amounts of human detritus could quite possibly be our new home! I could barely contain myself!!!

Daring to Dream

Two years ago I found myself at a particularly challenging period of my life. Working full time, finishing a masters degree, facing major surgery due to rampant endometriosis and a single mummy to 3 little boys. We were also living crammed into a small 2 bedroom, rented mid-terrace house in a city I wasn't overly fond of, partly due to the terrible parking and relentless barking dogs!

Now that may sound a little negative, it wasn't. That was my life, and I was happy with the choices I had made and the lot I had, even though I was pretty exhausted!

Yet, I had always had this dream that one day I would live in a little cottage of my own and if I was lucky I would be able to have an art studio in a shed. Here I could happily while away the hours painting or making stuff! In reality, I knew this was a pipe dream. I was getting older, my wages were low, the economy was at constant threat of recession, and saving for a deposit whilst providing for my boys was nearly impossible. Furthermore, a mortgage would be out of the question. However, I held on to this dream for dear life, even if it never came true, I enjoyed thinking about it. Wistfully picturing myself there relaxing with a glass of red wine (or drink of choice to suit the moment), enjoying the peace and the scent of the cottage garden, using a well-loved palette of paints....all very romantic!

Then one day my wonderful Great Uncle died.

Uncle in his younger days

My Mum phoned up, I could hear in her voice she was extremely upset, Uncle had unexpectedly died aged 88, he was like a father to her. We'd always been a close little family so this hit everyone very hard.

A few months later I received the news that my amazing Great Uncle had kindly left my boys and I some money in his will. Enough for me to have a sizeable deposit for our first ever house. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined this, it would change our lives. I sobbed and laughed, and dared to dream a little bit more....