The builders have gone.
Not that we didn’t love them and their crrrazy Kosovan sense of humour (they never tired of laughing at our poor DIY skills, bless ‘em), but there’s nothing like lying in on a Saturday morning til 10am and making coffee in mismatched underwear.
So, all the important stuff is done, except for a spot of tiling, installing the shower and of course the final Building Control sign-off. Our house is so damn fireproof, an arsonist wouldn’t have a ghost of a chance. Not with our 5 mains-connected smoke alarms and yards of intumescent door strips. Of course, there are a few little teething troubles (water gushing out the bottom of the sink unit, complicated high-tech ceramic hob flashing ominously), but we’re staying zen. All will be resolved when the electrician, gas guy and builder get back from holiday next week.
So what remains?
- Doors - to be oiled.
- Painting - and lots of it.
- Woodwork - we will have to learn to use a saw.
And then, I suppose we fill the house with things. Currently, we have nothing but a far-too-big sofa, slightly damp from its sojourn in the garden.
But hey, plenty of time for all that! In the meantime, we’ll be painting in our pants.