House & Garden

Not sure if recent purchases  / actions have been prompted by the content of the previous blog (things can just wriggle into your brain can't they??!) but I have been furniture shopping! And the conservatory has now miraculously transformed from looking like the sitting room of an old people's home to being a super cool, stylish room for hip cat youngsters (she says modestly!)

As is my want I was trawling furniture websites looking for sofas, chairs - anything in fact that would pep up the potentially gorgeous conservatory - when I spotted a 50% off sale at House of Fraser. Scrolling through a myriad a funky furniture, there it was - the perefct colour, the perfect style - and the perfect less than half price. For a 3 seat sofa, Bond-Villain-styely chair & matching footstool. No brainer - kids & hubby agreed and so credit card got flexed & on Monday our garden living quarters were transformed!!

Had a slight worry that the KC would be very interested in the new stuff, especially as she had used the old as her personal scratching post (!) but with judicial use of Feliway & CatNip the worst she has done is crash out for a claw free sleep this afternoon. God forbid she would sit on my lap so I could stroke her a la true Bond Villain ...

The garden will be attacked next - the lovely gardener has been & worked out what to do & soon the mess of unidentified bushes & shrubs that blight the middle of the garden will be removed, the huge Camelia & Rhododendron chopped right back & 8 foot of garden reclaimed as we dig out the compost heap in anticipation of a garden shed (or maybe even a summer house) Ah yes, the universe that is the compost heap - we will no doubt gain some small furry friends as that is removed .. the kind the KC likes (ahem) playing with!

The Property Ladder - with the right numbers!!

I seem to have "blogger-rhoea" at the moment - I can't stop blogging! (must be busy ... ah yes!). Anyway appropos nothing & not connected to the previous "Spreadsheet" blog post, I had an email from a very very old acquaintance recently, someone I lived near to over 15 years ago. They had got in touch to reconnect & to say hi but it had been prompted by them seeing a for sale board outside the property I once used to call home. Lethal. Awful news for such a nosey parker as myself.

Naturally I immediately Googled my old address to find a slickly done des res that bore little resemblance to the lovely, homely but frankly very 1990's little cottage I had left behind. The original parquet that had been in tip top condition when I moved out is now covered by Wickes (well it looks like) shiny oak flooring and the lights are in the floor. They have removed the whole of the front of the little house & replaced it with smart bi-fold doors. Thanks to TV 'property p*rn' shows they have painted every room white. They have stretched the tiny cottage garden & made it look amazing & slick & it's all architectural plants & decking but they have lost a parking space. And they are asking (wait for it) ~170% more than I sold it for!!! OK - I'll give you 15 years and a shortage of detatched 2 bed houses for that.

But once you start you can't stop. I then Googled the next address, the one I went to after that. To find THAT up for sale too (something in the air?) for also 170% more than I had paid - again 170% increase clearly a London thing - for yes a very big but only 2 bed essentially basement flat (in polite circles we call it a patio flat) with shockingly bad sound proofing & an eye watering service charge! At least the first place was freehold & detached. But again the same thing.

Again thanks to a certain genre of TV show, they have followed all the rules - white walls, all character removed... But interestingly unlike the old cottage place which had clearly been stripped back & started again, the old flat which is being offered for a kings ransome still has my (now 12 years old) developers kitchen & my Debenhams patio furniture! They haven't even put a new kitchen in! How can they justify a 170% price rise?? Location Location Location. Said basement is in W2. Walking distance to Notting Hill, Marble Arch, Kensington, Westbourne Grove .....  need I go on? And of course I ponder - should I have stayed - in either - & been rich?!

But it doesn't do to dwell. Money isn't everything. I was ready to leave both des res's at the time of moving. If the chain of events set off by my first move had not happned as it did I would not be sitting here now happy as larry, married to the worlds best man, owner of the worlds snootiest cat, able to earn a decent living by logging on from the comfort of my home office for 2 1/2 whole days a week & pop over to my neighbours swimming pool when the sun shines! You see it does all work out for the best in the end. To quote the Beatles - Can't buy me love.

The Spreadsheet

During the dull very wet weekend FauxSurreyHubby & I indulged in one of our passions ... Yes, checking the life spreadsheet  which basically tells us if,  how & where we could run away to if we simply couldn't stand it all any more.


It's all slightly hypothetical as we have the teenagers to support for another 18 months but this weekend, the numbers showed that if we really wanted to, we could genuinely run away to a stone cottage complete with its own bluebell wood in Wales (actual cottage pictured!) tomorrow, be mortgage free & not have to work ever again. Without having to win the lottery!

It's amazing the sense of freedom that gives you.

That Friday Feeling ...

Not so long ago that Friday feeling was a step up in gear - in my 30's Friday meant that the devil was in your knickers and a weekend full of socialising, drinking, flirting, live bands & partying was on the cards. The phone would start ringing at about 4pm (yes calls - not texts - OK I am going back quite a way OK OK) and plans would be made, sometimes dates were set (although a weekend date was serious, most casual dating was done midweek. Just in case ..) and by 8pm on any given Friday I would be in a pub / bar / restaurant - or worst case on a plane heading somewhere glam! But always searching for the next exciting thing, looking for where the best boys were / where more fun was being had!  

Now that Friday feeling is more of an easing down - generally paired with an overwhelming sense of exhaustion, of having climbed the mountain of the week before (yes even when a 3 day week) and collapsing gratefully into a good bottle of Merlot and brilliant BBC comedy programmes (hurrah for QI!) and FauxSurreyHubby's fabulous company.

I am indeed getting old. In my (mispent) youth I could work hard all week, party all Friday night, go for a 1km swim at 8.30AM on Satuday morning, shop all afternoon then disco dance Saturday night away & still manage a boozy lunch Sunday. And maybe also a movie Sunday night! Now I look at that list of "things to do" (aka things to distract me) and I need a lie down. Post the Canada trip I have taken a necessary step up in exercise, as I realised how much more energy it gives me. I am now back up to 30 mins daily on the Cross Trainer (at level 6 & a steady 52 RPM, aka going purple & sweat dripping in my eyes) which is all good. And yes energy levels are up - but only after I have had a 2 hour recovery which includes a small sit down in the garden (fresh air - a must!) & a very hot shower!! 

So, here I am at the end of a week in my (very) late 40's, with the new Friday feeling gathering. I now welcome with open arms the imminent, slow, (uber dull in comparison to 10 years ago), relaxing weekend. A weekend that promises nothing more exciting than perhaps a takeaway, FauxSurreyHubby screaming at the Grand Prix, the KC headbutting me for a cuddle at 6AM & kissing & purring sweetly when I get cross and the kids just being silly. And the wonderful sense of completeness that gives me.

Jubilation

Now I am not a republican. By any stretch of anyones' imagination. I quite like the royals (Phil, Charles & Camilla are my faves! Kate's just TOO thin)  I think they are an abject lesson in the importance of media training. I think that HM the Queen (Gawd bless 'er) is a marvel. Keeping her job past 75 in this economic environment is to be applauded.

I am however struggling with all this forced jubilation for the Diamond Jubilee. My normally quiet sedate rural little street looks like someone has eaten union jack cake until they were violently ill and vomited all over it. There are flimsy gazebos shackled to lamposts and acres of cheap red white & blue bunting strung from house to house. I have had to pay £10 (per person!!) for the privilege of hanging out in my own 'hood tomorrow. Yes dear reader we are having a street party.

What does this once in a lifetime party have to offer? No booze, inedible offerings (chicken & ham no good for me the veggie & one dish has nuts in so would kill FauxSurreyHubby on contact), there is a fancy dress competition. a street singalong, a wet sponge contest (a what??), and a host of other activities to horrid to contemplate.

Yet as I type I hear a welcome & delightful sound on the roof of the conservatory. Rain. Torrential rain. The kind of rain that means we can't possibly sit in the middle of the street eating stale white bread sandwiches. Oh, Your Majesty you really do have a hotline to God. Thank You. Long to Reign Over Us huh? (Geddit?!) We are indeed amused