The House that Al built

well Al & Nige & Si & Chris the Plumb & Little Chris & Barry & Gibbo & John & architect John & Daz the scaff. Oh yes and of course me, I was tea girl. Al was right of course, I should never have doubted, not even for a second because as he said it is indeed "reet". In fact I think it's really rather fabulous thanks very much.

When bought the cottage had damp (which literally seeped out of the walls and left interesting black mould patterns), rotten windows, some extremely interesting cracks (which let in even more interesting gusts of wind) and was powered by one little coal boiler which was rather childlike and required constant feeding with coal to omit any heat at all. I promptly lovingly christened it the hovel. It was not unknown in Winter for me to retire to bed with a woolly jumper over my pyjamas and a nice warm pair of woolly bed socks. I know, the glamour of it all, but what is a girl to do when she can see her own breath in the cold and has icicles on her window?

I embraced it of course as a "Design Project" as I'm a girl who likes to muck in and get involved. I'm the sort of girl who likes to get her hands dirty and doesn't really care if she has paint in her hair rather than the sort of girl who has to dress up like Tweetie Pie at Ascot and ponce about at the Opera. I'm quite capable of doing some plastering and tiling to and planned to actually. Al got lucky really, doctors orders not to do too much so I couldn't be quite as hands on as I had planned. Though that didn't stop me from doing all the painting and decorating even though I got a severe telling off about it all.

Hovel no more though. Oh no, now I have my house with my very, very funky kitchen which is the heart of any home.Here it is below complete with cosey corner for Scruffbag to cuddle down in and my chilli pepper lights which nestle in the corner. The back wall is still left white, ready to hang a selction of pictures, who says you can't have a gallery in your kitchen? I intend to anyway.



It's lovely with the sun streaming through the french doors, Scruffbag loves to sunbathe there, flat out on the floor as we have breakfast with the Sunday papers, head raised only to clear her bowl of any sausage thats offered. The plan is to complete a walled garden behind it with a collection of herb pots and maybe some fruit trees trained across the walls, but thats a work in progress.

And yes, I do cook, well bake mainly, a few of my recent efforts are on here of course, the chilli chocolate cake, the banana cupcakes with blueberry icing and of course Scruff's favourite brownies. I'm planning to make something for Easter of course, not quite decided yet between another chocolate extravaganza complete with chocolate bunnies or a raspberry and lemon cake with lemon icing and a sprinkling of mini eggs.

I also have a really rather lovely en suite bathroom complete with luxury double ended bath complete with bath pillows. Then there's the showerroom, with a very lovely walk in shower with the biggest shower hear we could find, just like my own little waterfall on tap. All very boutique hotel stylee even if I do say so myself. The picture below was taken before the finishing touches were complete buy hey gives you the general idea.



The bathroom is simply perfect for a big deep bubble bath, surrounded by candles, I'm still on the hunt for some suitable accessories for the ultimate bathing environment but love hunting for them in the most unexpected places. The old bath, which is a rather weighty cast iron one is another project, planned to be made into a pond possibly for fish, though Cooper is possibly untrustworthy in the fish department so that may need to be considered.

Finally the sanctuary of a new bedroom, with dual aspect its a very sunny room. Although I'm not a bimbo glamour girl type I quite like having my little dressing table, though I couldn't resist adding some blue fairly lights just to make it a little bit more funky.



At the moment it sort of feels like someone asked me to house sit a proper grown up house, silly but I do expect them to walk in and ask what I'm doing there, like some modern day Goldilocks.

Anyway, there we go. It isn't easy living on a build especially when you're a bit poorly like I have been but it's a job done great. For all the unfortunate mini digger incidents and mishaps along the way Al is the best builder ever as far as I'm concerned.

Well off now, really do need to decide what type of Easter cake to make, stop by sometime, there's always a kettle ready to boil, or a glass of wine ready to pour and cake to be eaten and laughs to be had. You can laugh at me dancing in the kitchen with the dog if you like or you might even find yourself wanting to join in.

TTFN
xx

"It be reet"

That's the phrase de jour at the moment in these parts. Initially it was a phrase uttered daily, but now it creeps into conversation up to two or three times at every tea break chat. "Who utters is?" I hear you cry and "Why, pray tell?" and for those of you who do not live in close proximity to the Yorkshire border "What on earth does that mean?". To answer, in order, (I like order):

- it is Big Al (our very lovely builder's) favourite phrase

- because the build is not yet finished but it will be, oh yes, and very likely this year

- a translation would be "do not fret my dear, everything will be alright, fine and dandy. Be assured that one day soon you will have actual running water, central heating and there will no longer be a gale force wind blowing through the holes I made in the wall"

Whilst a positive person who can usually find the bright side in most things even I am struggling to with this. Before you start tutting and decrying me as a drama queenie queen I wish to put forward the evidence.

Exhibit A (wow that takes me back) my rather lovely kitchen. The slightly jaunty angle of the sink may be seen as a design feature in some circles but does not exactly make washing up easy). You can see that even Cooper, the bandy psycho serial killer puss looks slightly perturbed). Making dinner know is a rather complex process involving utilising the dining room (which currently has half the bathroom fittings in it), the living room and on occassion the hallway. Lovely.

Exhibit A: Boho chic?



On the bright side I am becoming quite the little expert in one pot cooking.

Exhibit B the bathroom, well this is of course the true shocker. Discovered just after midnight on return from a trip to Dublin. In terms of toilets I have always been of a slightly sensitive disposition. This girl doesn't do camping or portaloos and whilst environmetally conscious and a lover of eco friendly housing don't even say the word compost toilet unless you want me to break out in hives).

The toilet had been moved to where the new one would be and the sink removed, yes removed as in no sink. I think its then that the panic attack started (breath, remeber to breath). The old toilet waste pipe which I have to say looked slightly crusty was still there, oh joy, giving us an interesting air conditioning system (aka howling gale). The skylight will be lovely of that I have no doubt, but it is unnerving to have a breeze coming through (it plays havoc with a girls scented candles humph) and the occassional plopping sound from manky bits of plaster dropping into the bath bubbles causes me to sulky pout (which isn't good for a girls wrinkles).

Exhibit B bathtime au naturel



It actually doesn't look as bad as it truly is, but out of shot is manky waste pipe, which I have put a bag over to kill some of the breeze coming through, which unfortunately has created a sort of mini bagpipe type thing. Trust me it is a little unnerving when you are happy on the throne and a gust of wind inflates the bag. I may draw a little face on it to make it friendlier.

Bright side, people pay thousands for the hot/cold buzz of the hammam an effect which can be acheived by simply stepping out of my bath into the breeze. Equally mud baths are very de rigeur and platers plopping into the tub is similar right?.

As for the heating system, at the moment we're still shovelling coal, good for the abs obviously but hardly glamorous. Still I must confess I do like a nice coal fire, very cosy.

But don't worry people because "It be reet".

Speaking of which, I guess I should make more tea. Strong enough to stand brushes in appears to be the preference and I may also hand over some of the choccies (Miniature Heros) not the Creme Egg twisted ones though (yum), ooh and I do like the Twirl's too - but otherwise I will share.

I know in the end it will in fact "Be reet" in fact and don't worry I won't be "avin a Benny".

TTFN xx

Trenchfoot anyone?

Country girl was aware of course that building work was taking place (what with the mini digger and everything). But when she finally stepped out of the back door last night to take Scruffbag for her walk the full extent of it became clear. Deja vu for Country girl who felt magically transported back in time. There I was, back on that school field trip to Belgium or France or wherever it was (may have been both actually). You know, the one with the war trenches and stuff. Even if you didn't go on the exact same jaunt as Country girl I think it was pretty standard fair for all secondary school kids of our generation so you'll be on the same page.

So, there I was, in what was my garden but which know appeared to be a First World War trench (in case you think I'm exaggerating , as if country girl ever would, I refer you to exhibit A below)




Distinctly battlefieldy don't you think?

For those of you who actually went on the trip I'm sure you'll agree all I needed was Miss Hulse and Mrs Richardson there in matching kaggies bellowing "Come on gals next stop Ypres" and the scene would be complete.

As ever so many worries for Country girl.

Will she shortly receive a visit from the Time Team posse wanting to geophys her lawn?

How long will it be before a)Scruffbag or b) Cooper or c)Our lovely postlady or indeed all three of them require rescuing from one of the holes?. Where is A&E round here anyway (better look that one up)?

Also, with all this rain will it became an actual moat and as I already said what about trenchfoot for the builders (and could they sue me for it when they dug the hole mmm an interesting legal query methinks).

That just prompted another ponder, can cats get trenchfoot? Miss Hulse and Mrs Richardson never covered that. Off to check. TTFN

Digger,Digger,Digger!!

Country girl had a naughty glint in her eye on rising this morning. Thankfully the builder recognised that look and realised that she wasn't giving him the glad eye but gazing longingly at his shiny little friend, the digger.

(actual Digger shown below)



"Digger's arrived princess" - yes indeed it had. The P word again (noted by country girl of course. Mental note made and one less choccy digestive she thinks). I ventured a "Can I ...?" but like some warp speed mind reading genius his retort was "No love, can't have a go, not allowed, specialist equipment this".

Humph, well, country girl not best pleased and did what she does when she can't threaten disciplinary action or make someone redundant or even worse make them attend six sigma training for the 9 billionth time. What was it? Pout, a big pout. A full bottom lip jobby, just like she used to try on her dad to get her own way (he got wise and laughed eventually, think I was about 21).

And as that clearly didn't work started the charm offensive "Tea?", "Cracking love".

Country girl seems to say that a lot these days. So off I went "Tea time is me time" merrily dancing in my head (yeah right). Still looking lovingly through the window at the digger, if only.

It was then that country girl spied Cooper (camp psycho cat for those of limited attention span). Cooper had decided to play stalk the digger, not quite sure what he was planning to do with it. Certainly couldn't lop its head off and hide it in the coal shed as is his usual modus operandi. So he had to be rescued, or rather grappled to safety much to the amusement of the builders (I was actually tying to protect them) and much to the annoyance of Cooper. Who has thankfully now ended his campaign to get let out again and joined me on the sofa for a sulk.

So here we are, a petulent princess, pouty psycho cat and a love struck scruff bag (she makes eyes at the builders).

Word of the digger has spread we are expecting a visit from Ginger Dave who wants me to look at his cv, yeah right, I know its my digger he's after. They better not let him have a go or well I'll set the cat on em.

TTFN