This is not my beautiful house

Working on our house project has made me more focused than ever before on housey things.  I've always had a bit of a thing for architecture books and interior design magazines, but now that I'm working on our own project and constantly selecting, sourcing and installing various products, I'll admit to becoming just a little obsessed.  I knew I had it bad the other day when I had a few renovations done in my mouth and I had to work very hard to resist asking my dentist where he'd got his dishy bench tops from.

The rest of the family are not immune to this.  As we get about on our daily business we find ourselves having conversations about window styles and pebble colours, roof lines and design crimes.  (The pictures throughout this post are of various weird and wonderful houses around these parts.  None of them are my beautiful house, though the very last photo is of something I own.) I don't expect we'll be like this forever as our plan is to move in and get on with our lives, and then look back and laugh at our numerous painful outings to hardware stores where at least one of our party ended up with that "someone just kill me now" look in their eyes.

Throughout this project Interwebland has been my best friend.  I have been constantly amazed by the number of people, both professional and amateur, who continually renovate, redecorate and restyle homes, then post evidence of their projects online.  Type any old paint colour, style of light fitting or floor covering into Mr Google and you'll find someone who has not only used it but beautifully photographed and documented the results for grateful folk like me to benefit from.

I'd like to be that generous but our project is very modest and simple and besides, we move house this coming Saturday so I'm a tad too busy.  Here below is where we'll most likely be moving to.

No, that is not my beautiful house.  That is my beautiful, hangar-sized shed.  Unless a miracle happens between now and Saturday we'll be shifting most of our worldly goods in to there, but given how many shed-dwelling redback spiders I've rehomed I draw the line at sleeping in there.

The hold-up is that the rolls of flooring are still sitting in the house like great galumphing elephants in the room.  The floor-layer has had an accident and busted his hand.  I haven't been hassling him because a) he is nice, and b) he knows full well how we are placed, and c) I reckon that a floor layer with a busted hand has quite enough hassles already.  But I will admit to thinking more than once "How did I get here? What have I done?"

And... we own a house

Yes, we own a house.  Picked up the keys at 4.30pm.  Bought celebratory wine and treats, dumped them at the rental home then my son and I shot straight to the new house. By 5.15pm when my partner arrived we had already pulled down the net curtains (design crime), emptied the letterbox of 6 months of mouldy junk mail and lifted 50 square metres of vinyl.  Tasty. Back tomorrow to remove the vertical blinds (some people are racist, some are sexist.  I hope I'm neither, but I'll admit to being an unrepentant blindist.) and some gorgeous jarrah shelves that are currently affixed to a brick half-wall that is soon going to heaven.

Pictured above is a before shot of the hallway flooring.  Oh and that is also an after shot.  That is one of the few things that won't be changing.  Interwebland may be awash with fools on renovation forums swapping tips on how to lift that particular type of flooring but I'll have none of it.  I know what I like and I know what I loathe and that flooring is firmly affixed to my like list.

Let the fun begin.

A great day in Realestateland

Great news today from the real estate agent.  Finally success on the new home front.  We move to our new rental home next week.  There it is above.

Ok, just kidding.  Here it is.

Yeah, that's a porky too.  Here we go.

OK.  Fib.

Sorry.  Pork pie.  This time.

Yup, another porky.

Fib.

Pork pie.

Lie.

Untruth.

Oh my aching enormous nose.

Eeeek!  Porky.

Make it stop!

Aaaahhh! 

Oh, that one doesn't look too bad. 

(See what I did?  I learnt that softening-up strategy from NZ's current government...)

Yes, that house above really is where we'll be moving to next week and staying for at least the next six months.  A normal house on a normal street in a normal suburb with a normal garden and normal decor and four bedrooms and two living rooms and plenty of space for houseguests and with a normal shopping centre in easy walking distance. (Just a slight snag with my plan for furnishing all those rooms.  I'm still stuck on the depression stage of the grieving process over that particular situation. When I reach the acceptance stage I'll fill you in.)

But the best bit about our new home is the view from the letterbox.

That glorious view is of my children's new school.  I can't wait until I can stand at my front door in my jimbojams and say "Go to school!".  Then I'll go get ready for the day, try to resist volunteering for the local version of the PTA for at least a couple of weeks while I head out to hunt myself an O-job, some favourite haunts, some friends and some new hobbies.  Given the state of my shabby-shite photos I think I'll start with reading my camera manual.