Home Sweet Home She Sang

Home Sweet Home
Well, it’s been full steam ahead over here at Chez AH today. There’s been packing, worrying about not packing fast enough and, dropping off many boxes of stuff at the new place. Yes, at long last, I now hold in my sweaty little hand the key to our very own hoosie. Life is good.

The shine was taken off the apple somewhat by the rather less than pristine state the house was left in by the previous owners. I was annoyed, nay very pissed, for at least two days and we were left with a lot of work to do to simply clean the place to a decent standard. And all of this before we could even start to move our stuff in. We decided in the end that we should try and paint the place before moving in furniture as it’s so much easier to paint unimpeded by ‘stuff’. So a lovely weekend of sugar soaping walls was enjoyed by all. We then painted most of Lily’s room a lovely soft heathery dusky pink. We intended for there to be green feature wall but upon completion of said feature wall, we were both rapidly transported back to the late 80’s, big perms, ‘Back to the Future’ and all. We speedily painted over it in white and now Mummy is going to add a little of the pink to a lot of the white and have a slightly lighter pink feature wall instead.

Tiny Rant. I complained to the estate agent about the state the place was left in (dirty unhoovered floors, dirty walls and woodwork, scuzzy cupboards etc) and was told that the previous owners had ‘cleaned it to the best of their ability’ and that they were ‘honestly nice people.’ Harrumph. I would never (ever) leave a place in that kind of shitty state. We would lose our bond if this place looked like our new house did. So, I was a bit cranky for a few days and I think it upset the hubble a bit. He wanted it to be all grinning and cheer because we do now own our own house. I am a glass half empty kind of girl. Sorry. I need to be allowed to experience my disappointment (and my fear of so huge a commitment) before I can enjoy the fruits of this intense labour of love we are undertaking. I AM honestly joyful that we now own our very own piece of Real Estate. I love our garden. I love that I can paint the place whatever colour I damn well please. I love that I am able to relax (in my mind at least) knowing that no-one can sell it out from under us because it’s OURS. And I especially love sitting on the terrace and seeing nothing but green frondyness spreading out before me like an emerald ocean. It’s pretty glorious. On the downside, the house is a little darker than I would like. It doesn’t seem to get a huge amount of sunshine after the early mornings. Comes from being at the bottom of a very steep hill I guess. I’m thinking of cutting some more skylights into the kitchen and possibly adding in a window to both top bedrooms. Something small and slim like a bathroom window into the exterior walls perhaps. Of course, this will all come ‘in time’ but the planning is good. I’m also starting to put out little tendrils towards plasterers and am researching Eco Plaster of all things. Well, we are trying to be ‘greener’ and have gone with some pretty good green paint for the house. Anyway – once the annoyance of dirty house had passed, I was all systems go and got stuck into sugar soaping and painting with great gusto. So all was well in the end.

We have SO much stuff to pack up here it’s not funny. I keep looking around me and whispering quiet prayers for a speedy, nay miraculous, pack-up in the next few days. The removalists are coming on Saturday at 8am (Ye Gods – don’t these burly men sleep?) and we have to be R.E.A.D.Y. I made some small inroads into it today interspersed with ignoring Lily a lot in order to do a lot of Change of Address notifications with banks etc. That was long and very tedious but necessary.

Momentary aside. I have just looked out of the window to see the most glorious crescent moon hanging like a tiny silver charm in the blackness. Above it shines a single, very bright star. I used to have (and may still have somewhere) this tiny silver crescent moon necklace. I wore it almost all the time back when I was around 24. Tonight that moon looks like that necklace. Perhaps I should see if I can fossick it out of my jewellery box. Perhaps a girl needs a little lunar charm at times like these. I shall miss these views from on high when I am deep in the valley below. Yes I shall.


And now she is gone. Obscured by cloud once more. Think I’ll play a little celtic music to soothe my tired soul. Maybe a little Mary Fahl – jeez but she’s a pretty little thing. And you gotta love that dress!

I feel like I have so much to say and now that I am here I can’t remember any of it. I guess there is just so much going on and my brain is full of all the things I am desperate not to forget. Heh heh.


by bcarlson15210

I’ve been a bit of an angry bunny for a few weeks. I get like this sometimes though I’m not entirely sure why. Every damn thing pisses me off so intensely – it’s like I’ve lost a layer of skin or something and there is no buffer between me and the chafing. Some of it deserves my anger, some of it does not. Poor Beanie has had crotchety witch mamma for a while and although she’s been enjoying pushing the boundaries quite a bit, (well, a lot actually), does not deserve my evil moods. So on top of the anger has been a fair bit of guilt and sadness too. All of this at a time when I am also happy to be moving into my own home and harvesting the bounty of broccoli, broad beans and beets that await me in my new garden. For that I can almost forgive the mess the previous owners left behind. I know. I know. Get over it puss!

Anyway – I shall not dwell – I shall steadfastly move on to ‘Things That Save Me From Myself’. Nothing in this world makes me feel quite so heart achingly happy as my little girl, particularly when she suddenly decides to belt out impromptu songs such as ‘I have peace like a river in my Soul’ or, as Lily sings it, ‘Peas in the river and a sword.’ Her rendition of Bob Marley’s ‘Three Little Birds’ is just so sublime I can’t tell you. She is so wonderful and so funny and so wildly, passionately unselfconscious and I want so much to protect that quality in her, knowing, as I do (and despite my seeming confidence) what it is to be self conscious. Now and then I ask her to ‘sing to mummy’ and without so much as a breath, she launches into a song about whatever she has in her head at that time. This afternoon, as we prepared for a nap, she sang about me telling her not to turn the lamp on and off and encompassed ‘the whole world’ and threw in things like some shoes, a little girl and a toad. Oh, for that imagination. Mind you, it comes with a complete set of ‘I like to cover my whole face (including my ears) with vegetable soup’ extras. Tuck in and enjoy my friend.

Anyway – its late, my back is knackered and so am I. Time for a good (ghastly, ghoulish) book and a warm duvet. We are about to go onto dial up speed for the next week or so until our swanky new wireless broadband is up and running, so it might be a while. Still, next time you might get photo’s of the new hoose and me hauling large boxes up too many stairs.

Bon Nuit.

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5 thoughts on “Home Sweet Home She Sang

  1. Yay!! new hoosie!! Weeee! And painting – I’m sure it will be looking fab now, and you are able to harvest vegies??!! Sublime. My word what a big time you’re having though! I must say, it’s a lovely surprise to see you online again. I didn’t expect it so soon.No wonder you’ve been feeling a grumpy witchy-poo: massive upheavals, packing up and moving with small child, painting, exhausting regimes an’ all. Know what you mean about the whole fear of commitment thing. I was very wary of committing to buying our place, even though I wanted to have a place of my own, and I shed a number of fearful and dementedly tired tears during the process. Sorry to hear about the icky, uncleaned factor. Why is this? I can’t recall the number of places I have moved out of and cleaned maniacally from top to bottom only to move in to the next place where it looks as though nobody has bothered to even sweep the floor, let alone clean the oven. Grr.It was weird moving in here though – it was so clean we didn’t think hoomans could have possibly been living here. So we didn’t need to clean, and weirdly, not doing so made it take so much longer to feel like ours. It’s the purifying act of cleaning that can it really your own I suppose. Even so, Big Bums.May you and yours be truly blessed your new home, and may it be filled with love and happiness, sweet dreams, and fruitful endeavours. xxx

  2. Well, no wonder you’ve been cranky. Painting is awful. I painted a small flat once and almost lost the will to live. In fact, if it had been a three bedroom place, I wouldn’t be here. Oh, and the cleaning – I understand. Our last place in Melbourne was filthy when we moved in and it made me irrationally angry. I imagined the previous tenant snickering as he backed out, scattering handfuls of dirt and cat hair. I cursed him and all he loved as I scrubbed and vacuumed. Well, alright, Moonturtle did most of the work, but then I was busy with the cursing and pacing.But now you’re almost up to the fun bit! You can position your furniture and place all your precious bits and pieces here and there. You’ll have a great time and I’m sure it’ll look fantastic. Can’t wait to see it (and you, Michael and Lilly, of course).Good luck with the next stage!

  3. Ooh, very envious of the new house. How exciting!No wonder you’re feeling a bit cranky though – house moves are a huge upheaval. And extra cleaning – yuk!Anyway, just wanted to let you know I have finally got around to doing my green blogger meme!Thanks for tagging me, it was fun to do.

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