I woke up really early this morning. This may be for one of the two following reasons:
1) I did a double exercise class last night and my body is in shock.
2) I'm seriously disturbed by the décor in my new house.
I don't just mean that it's of bad taste, which to be fair, most of it is rather neutral so it remains kind of live able for the most part. It is more the annoying fact that it just doesn't make sense. It's like somebody moved in in 1969 and thought, hey I know let's just cover the whole house in wood chip.
I am aware that wood chip was very fashionable (by the way- if I ever find the dude who invented wood chip I am going to have very strong words with you.) in the 1960-80's and I admit that it does help to cover imperfections in walls. However, my bone comes from layering wood chip on top of five layers of paper. Yes, five. No exaggeration.
Not only are we faced with wood chip but the five layers of wallpaper underneath the wood chip are so embedded in the walls that the walls in fact crumble away when parting from it. Yesterday, I found myself knee deep in paper, plaster and dust- lots and lots of dust- and this was only from removing a loose strip of paper from the hall.
My kitchen is carpet. Why? Why dear God, why would you carpet a kitchen? Milk, cheese, beans, children all eating, husbands with wet crumbs, etc, etc. It's not just the carpet- it's the carpet on top of the beautiful wooden flooring. Mind you, in the hall way, the original black and white tiling was covered by a dark blue industrial carpet so I shouldn't be too surprised.
Anyway, today is another day. I'm off to the DIY store for emergency supplies of plaster and also a quanit cafe in Whitby, known as Becketts. A place to enjoy the nicest cakes and forget your woes of DIY.