A weekend at the house
The house is almost finished. There’s a little gap in the kitchen floor, and I still need a couple of pairs of curtains and two light shades, but its now tidy and clean and, more importantly, warm.
That was important, as the heating at home decided to pack up on Friday and has done the same again today.
Anyhow, as Sal, Dan and Will were over I spent the first long weekend - four nights - sleeping at the house since buying it, and for the first time it actually felt like somewhere to call home. It made for an easy walk to the station this morning rather than a long and irritating drive across town, and meant we could get up on Saturday morning and pull the spent bean and pepper plants out of the plot right after breakfast.
Since the return of the frosty mornings, the garden has really taken a hammering. The squashes - even the one in the greenhouse - have all been killed off, and the peppers haven’t taken kindly to being frozen on the branch. Even the can full of water in the greenhouse, which I’d put on a shelf a good metre and a bit above the ground, had a centimetre-thick layer of ice on top of the water.
So anyway, the house is almost done and it feels like arriving at the end of a very long project. It was frustrating at times, until I learnt to just go with the flow and accept that it’ll take as long as it will take, but now, looking back, it feels thoroughly rewarding.
But I’m not sure I’d do it all over again.
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