Renovators Delight: Chapter 2
Just Pick One...
Once the decision to renovate was made and plans were finalised, the process of picking stuff out began. Now, I know there are many of you reading this that would rejoice in the process of selecting tiles and bench tops, cupboards and colours, and if you are a man undertaking a similar journey with your bride then I presume many of you just run with what she wants. Right? I think my husband would envy you right about now.
You see, I’m not too fussed about all that hoo-ha. Yes, I like things to look good and I’m not a huge fan of mission brown, but as far as the details go I’m more than happy to let the professionals do their stuff. It’s their job. And they are good at it.
Pouring over designs and pictures in magazines and on the line, Hubby has spent somewhere in the vicinity of three million hours making sure we don’t lose the essence of the original house. Built in the seventies by the parents of a dear friend, it really does feel like home and we want to keep it’s heart and soul. It just needs new organs. So when Joe our cabinet maker arrived one Friday night to discuss some of the cabinetry options, I was optimistic. We agreed on a basic style and the colour was simple. White.
Joe’s eyes lit up as he pulled a sample board from his bag of tricks, and as he spread it across the kitchen table he asked me which shade of white I’d like. Huh? My heart sank. White. Just white. But apparently that wasn’t the correct answer. It appears there are approximately 127 billion shades of white. Arctic White, Bridal White, Antique White, Frost, Snow, Linen, Ivory, Chiffon, Porcelain, Pearl. The list is endless. I took my glass and left the boys to it. Sorted.
There were two other essential elements that Hubby wanted to source before we moved out and demolition began. The flooring and the fireplace. Excellent. Now, just so you know, my working knowledge of these two things is this. One is made of wood. The other burns it. On the upside I did have some idea about the type of fireplace I wanted, so that was the easy part. The difficult part was the flooring, so off we trekked to a specialist hardware and flooring store on the other side of town to check out our options.
If I thought colours were confusing, I was now living my worst nightmare. Walking into the showroom I began to feel my pulse quicken and my skin become hot and clammy. I presume this is what it’s like for a recovering alcoholic to walk through a Dan Murphy store. Everywhere I looked there was wood. It was on the walls, on the floors, doors and benches. It came in ten widths, twenty lengths and fifty shades of brown. Dark, light, thick and thin, with or without knots or nails. But at the end of the day it was all wood.
While Hubby and The Boy pondered and perused hundreds of samples, I wandered around and tried to make sense of what I saw. The installation diagram was interesting but that was about it. I did, however, meet a young boy who was with his Dad. We got chatting and I learned that not only was he eleven, he was about as excited to be there as I was. We had a laugh, took some selfies, and rejoined our respective parties. At this point my boys had narrowed it down to three options and turned to me for a decision. Looking at the names, colours and patterns in the wood it all looked Greek to me. Until one piece took my eye.
It was multi-coloured with knots and imperfections throughout, just like the essence of our house. It actually looked like it had lived a thousand lives before being processed and turned into flooring. Perfect. Wormy Chestnut it was to be. So with that done, it was off to Masters to pick up a few items for the big move and then the best part of the morning. Coffee.
I have to admit we procrastinated a bit. Knowing you have to move out and actually doing it are two very different things. As it happened we woke up one Sunday morning and decided to just do it. Again, Mum was a God-send and came up to wrap, pack and try in vain to get me to throw out a whole lot of crap I never really needed. She succeeded a little. So over the next two weeks we made the big transition to next door. Yep. Next door. Which is brilliant when you have chickens that need caring for and your gym equipment is still in the one remaining room of the house.
I knew this day would eventually arrive but still, nothing can really prepare you for the morning you no longer wake up in familiar surroundings and you have no idea where all the light switches are. But we are finally here. So let the fun begin.
Dee xx