A Celebration

Also known as Week Ten of Renovations Round Three.

Yes, I'm celebrating that the builder was able to finish our two rooms (apart from the doors on the wardrobe which we're waiting on the joiner to complete) before he had to leave town. And yes, I'm celebrating that the painting was finished at 9:45 Friday evening just as family were arriving and that now we will have a respite from the fumes. And I'm even celebrating that the timber and cans of paint and scaffolding have been moved out of my entrance way (even though it still looks nothing like an entrance way should look).

But the real celebration was family gathering together and sharing yummy food and marking DH's birthday.

Isn't it adorable how the little ones are always the first to be at the table (or putting themselves in their highchair) when dessert comes out? (Meanwhile DH was nowhere to be seen as he was refitting the window hinges in the two rooms above!)

Light and Colour

Also known as Week Nine of Renovations Round Three. Or the week the most obsservable progress was made and then it all came to a standstill.

After weeks of barely being able to measure the what has been happening in our front rooms (although we knew it was happening) there has suddenly been an upsurge in apparent progress. And, amazingly, most of it in just two days.

In one week we went from this ...

to this ...

We now have windows (what bliss!) and I love, love this colour on the walls (it doesn't photograph well but is a soft blue-grey with a touch of green) and the way it makes the stained glass windows glow. I'm not sure if the painter is coming back to do the last coat and finish off all the woodwork (I'm assuming this will get done in the coming week) but our builder will be in absentia for a while. A job that was booked pre our renovation work is now calling his name and we have to be patient and wait for his [eventual] return.

Sigh. Patience has never been one of m…

Twenty-Four Seven

Also known as Weeks Seven and Eight of Renovations Round Three.

Or, how to survive living in a fishbowl.

For the last two weeks we have had no privacy. Builder by day Monday to Friday. Plasterer all day Saturday. Painter after work at night and all day Saturday.

Only Sunday is a day of rest. That is, apart from the fumes and mess we are left to deal with once the tradespeople have departed.

It feels as if we are always being assessed. I feel self-conscious about things like dying flowers in the bathrooms and clothes hanging in front of the fire and dishes left in the sink. Which is ridiculous when you consider the mess they have made of my house.

I seriously cannot believe I am managing to not only survive but to also stay sane in the chaos that is our humble abode at the moment. Always insistent in a bad way that the house be always ready to receive guests, it seems unfathomable that I am able to ignore my front veranda and the mess in my front entrance.

The only explanation - well t…

Some Of My Favourite Things

"My favourite time is when the family gets to eat together," announced A Most Adorable Granddaughter on the weekend ... which is just as well because a family birthday provides a great excuse for the family to get together and eat together.

(You could be forgiven for mistaking whose birthday was actually being celebrated on this occasion given the number of eager individuals blowing out the candles.)

And it seems that there are other pursuits almost as enjoyable to do together as eating ...

I am so thankful for family ... for reasons to celebrate ... for The Most Adorable Granddaughters who enjoy playing with cousins ... for sunny days ... and afternoon tea on the veranda ... for space to play ... and trees to climb ... for mismatched candles ... for laughter ... and giggles ... and even a few tears ... for shared kai ... and lots of dishes ... and, yes, even for a crazy dog.

These are some of my favourite things.


It was to be a gentle Sunday walk in the afternoon sun: enough of a slope to make one feel virtuous about getting up out of one's chair and actually doing something, but not enough to constitute work (especially given it was the Sabbath).

We reached what I considered the highpoint and took photos to celebrate. I would have been happy to have turned around and walked back down the hill at this stage.

But there is something about genetics - perhaps it's true what they say about skipping a generation - for almost immediately The Most Adorable Granddaughters#1-#3 (and I can't say with any certainity who was to blame) sugggested we walk to the trig. This is the very suggestion their Grandpa has made over the years and it is one that strikes a certain amount of fear in my heart and limbs.

Now, I might be a slow learner, but after living with DH for almost 35 years I have learnt that "trig" is not a polite way of saying "benign walk". No, it is usually an euph…