Patience

Now, I don't want to turn this blog into one long rant, particularly not one long rant about kitchens. But my recent experience at Ikea leaves me with no option, I simply must share the comedy of errors that could only be described as shambolic! .

So,having decided that Ikea was the simplest, cheapest and, well cheapest option we embarked on the kitchen purchasing mission. We were well prepared (THIS TIME), having already lost many hours of our lives to the big blue monstrosity (hours we will NEVER get back) perusing, measuring, opening and closing cupboards, debating the merits of shiny modern versus traditional, watching incredulously as whole families argued their way around the store and treated themselves to a hot dog meal at the end. So we were optimistic about how long it would take, the boy thought one hour (delusional) I thought 2 max.

At 6.45pm having had one last look at the kitchen of choice we set too finalising our plan (be aware that this had already been gone through by 2 of Ikea's "Ask me for advice about fitting your kitchen" T-shirt wearers). And yet, still we had end panels of a different model and draw fronts an entirely different colour. Not to worry, stay calm.

One small question "how do we get a door only, without the frame". Oh, my, dear, lord, was that a mistake. To say our helper was not the sharpest tool in the box really doesn't do it justice. "No, we don't need a fridge, no definitely not a washing machine, no, no not an integrated dishwasher.." Sweet as he was I knew very quickly that this man was only set to hinder, not help. 20 minutes later we managed to loose him, onto the next grunting assistant, he knew the answer but crikey did he begrudge sharing it!

1 hour gone and we are ready to buy.... we asked misery boy to help us but, no, please no, he refers us back to the original simpleton. This could only mean 1 thing... a slow, painful, agonizing process as he re-loaded 1 by 1 every item we needed into his system. By the time we had circled the store and gathered every accessory needed he was just about finishing. Time to check it through... and then... after going through, line, by line, he lost the order.. it all disappeared. By now the boy was ready to explode and took refuge in 'Office storage', I decided the only method that would work a calm, patient approach and my finest sympathetic voice. I went through item by painstaking item (I am now fluent in Ikea), correcting every one of his many mistakes. 2 hours gone.

Time to pay.... Fantastically Ikea are giving a gift voucher with every purchase over £1000. Genius... or not. They don't actually know how to process said voucher in kitchens. Simpleton seeks help from his manager... clueless. He calls downstairs, we wait, and wait and wait. We process once.. nope, wrong... try again, still no. In the end angry lady from downstairs storms upstairs to sort it out. 3 hours gone. (Please note I am still being patient). Even dumb and dumber are beginning to realise that this is somewhat unacceptable and so give us vouchers for a free meal. The boy is genuinely excited about free meat balls. "thanks, is the restaurant still open". "No, it closed at 9" "Oh, so I can't use the vouchers then". "No".
3 hours gone.

It is now so late we receive an escort back of house to the tills to pay. In order to arrange delivery, we have to wait for the items to be picked and then queue at the delivery centre. Comedy genius at picking informs me it will be at least half an hour. He gives me a coffee voucher for my trouble. "Oh thanks, can I use this down here?" "no, it's for the restaurant" "But the restaurant closed at 9", "yup" "So I can't use it then?" "No".
Half an hour later, items are picked, time to be checked. Picker informs me he can't check, manager has to. Manager walks past..."Mike can you check these for this customer?", "No, I have finished, I aren't doing any more" walks off. "Mike, you have to", "No I don't". And so it was I found myself on the floor of Ikea at 10.30pm going through each item, 1 by 1, checking each code against my order (There were approx 60 items). The only saving grace, the lovely picker man who went way beyond the call of duty to show us his method and help us with the checking. Finally at 11pm, job done. We celebrate, with an Ikea hotdog. Happy day!

Another Brick In The Wall

There has been one clear theme for this week - Destruction!

It started badly. I have been eagerly awaiting the delivery my new fireplace, one of my many EBay purchases which was to be the finishing touch to the bedroom. I had arranged that the seller would organise the postage and so it arrived, delivered courtesy of UPS, or should I say destroyed by UPS. Quite how they managed to smash a cast iron fireplace into so many little pieces I have no idea, but sure enough, the fireplace is fit for nothing but perhaps an expensive door stop. UPS will feel my wrath, make no mistake! 

The next layer of destruction was entirely more intentional - stage one of operation kitchen. Knocking down 3 walls, one that separates the kitchen and 'living space' and two that form the downstairs bathroom and toilet, the aim being to create one big, airy kitchen/ dining space.

 

I was rather excited about getting hold of a sledge hammer and relieving the frustrations that are the result of a week back in the world of work. However it seems that a hangover, relentless hammering and low flying bricks are possibly not the ideal combination. Not only did I lack the brute strength required to effectively destroy a thick solid brick wall, I also found it somewhat nerve wracking. A plethora of hazards - brick in the eye, hammer on the hand, large piece of wall on head, or the entire ceiling falling in. Yes three builders assured us that these are not supporting walls but how could they be sure. 3 hours of hard labour and almost broken backs from carrying out the hundreds of bags of rubble, wall number 1 was down. Immediately you can see how the new kitchen will work, the light and fairly vast space is really quite exciting. 

Typical isn't it that the only elements of the house that seem well put together are the bits we need to take apart. So it seemed when we had to remove the bathroom tiles, tile by painstaking tile. Once again I am amazed by the zoo like qualities of this house, entire eco-systems of mold and insects, silver fish (I have been told) are the species that chose to take residence in this particular dank, dark area. I am equally endlessly amazed that people lived in these conditions and so relieved to be knocking the living **** out of it! 

And so, operation kitchen us underway. Next stage buying the units, planning the flooring and, my absolute favorite part, choosing the lighting. As I have long been preaching, it's all about good lighting!

There's A Rat In My Kitchen

It's official kitchen shopping is without doubt my most hated part of home improvement (so far).

1. It's complicated - you need plans and an ability to comprehend very exact dimensions (I do not have said ability!)

2. Too much choice - high line base units/ drawer line base units, larder units/ wall units... pull out systems or large pan drawers... i don't know, I do not know, somebody please just tell me.

3. All kitchen selling emporiums are hideous. Located in miserable retail parks in parts of town that really should not burst my London bubble. Full of arguing couples and screaming children, everyone walking around in a state of confusion whilst being confronted by entirely unhelpful and usually slightly stupid assistants. Don't even bother fobbing us off with your man who makes animals out of balloons, we know we are in retail hell!

4. They all claim to offer free design services, this is a lie. They are too busy to come to your home, you need to make an appointment 3 weeks in advance for help in store and the computer based systems clearly require and architecture qualification to be understood.

5. All the kitchens are horrid, cheap, tacky looking, pieces of plastic that simple cannot warrant however many thousands they demand.

Kitchen not progressing so well!

On a slightly brighter note, we have now taken possession of the freestanding sink unit mentioned in previous post. It is a delight, well worth the 6 hour road trip in the hired van. Particularly as we managed to combine a trip to lovely Dom and Andy's country cottage for an impromptu brunch. 

Now why can't everything be that simple? 

So despite warnings from very knowledgeable architects and other friends i am still wanting the eBay, used kitchen, it is far and away the nicest option and would not involve any more trips to hell by way of Enfield. Please can I get it, PLEASE can i? 

 

Holiday

I am on my holidays.. How can you afford such luxury I hear you ask. Well my lovely friends Fiona and James have departed the big schmoke for the Easter break and kindly lent us their lovely, clean, decorated, flat complete with working oven and EVERYTHING! So here I am in oh so exotic Finsbury Park, I am, as I write, sitting at their lovely kitchen table, glass of wine by my side, relishing in the joy of being clean.

So the eBay obsession has become a little bit out of hand! In the last few weeks I have bought the following:

Fireplace - a small one to fit the space in the bedroom, I am considering stripping it, or just leaving it white and slightly distressed - thoughts welcome.

Freestanding Sink Unit - as you may have gathered by now my style is quite.. hotch- potch. As such the plan is to have part fitted units - a long run down one side and part free-standing on the other side with lots of shelving. The first element of which is this free-standing Belfast sink unit. At £150 this is something of a bargain, yes it requires some tlc, but loving care costs nothing folks (except patience and tenacity, on which I must admit I am running slightly low).

French doors - (as mentioned in previous post).

Entire kitchen - Not bought yet but a very serious contender. Now, I realise that a used kitchen is some people's idea of hell, but I actively enjoy the lived in look of age and I simply cannot bare waste. If I can buy a really quality used item for the price of some brand new cheaper model, I just don't mind the odd mark . That said, I realise it does need to fit right and so I have spent the afternoon with some graph paper and cut out shapes the size of the the various units. (good advice Sara). We also drove across London to visit said kitchen in situ.. and (as Louis Walsh would say) I like it! Not sure how it would feel leaving its beautiful home in Twickenham to the squat in Homerton!

3 highlights of this week:

1. My first freecycle success - a double mattress. Always a risk but I like living on the edge and, you know what, it's perfect. Still in its original packaging. Just need a bed to accompany it now.

2. A design consultation with Abigail Ahern - http://www.atelierabigailahern.com/, I have long been an admirer of this lady's impeccable style and, if I am honest, I kind of want to be her! So before the restraining order sets in I utilised her new free style consultation service and had 1 whole hour of her expertise devoted to my kitchen planning. Mood board in hand I talked through my ideas and discussed the dilemmas and relative merits of above kitchen. Outcomes included the desire for screed flooring with under floor heating and lovely pendant lights from Caravan http://www.caravanstyle.com/shop_concrete_bulb.html.

3. Visit from architect friend, he needed some help planning his wedding, I need a kitchen planning. So we traded my events expertise for his hugely superior architecture expertise and he is in the process of whipping up some drawings. MASSIVELY grateful! Just having him in the house proved how helpful it would be to have actual experts helping me, if only I could afford them.

But, I can't, and so folks we muddle on....

Steamy Windows

Things have been somewhat quieter in the house. The builders gone, for now (I miss you George) and the main focus is on finishing bits and bobs. I am fast learning that the real skill in renovation work is the detail... it requires far more patience, persistence and ability than any of this knocking down walls malarkey, therein lies the problem.

How hard can it be to wire in a spotlight, plumb a washing machine, wire up a cooker? Too damn hard that's how. So it is that we live with bare hanging cables, an ever increasing pile of washing (yes that is the smell you have all been wondering about) and a raw diet (which would be fine if it was vegetables and not digestives and dairy milk). I have, however succeeded in hanging some pictures in the bathroom (priorities straight see!).

In order to tackle these niggling issues, I choose the only option available to me, ignore them and find alternative distractions. Hence I have spent the last 3 days stripping wall-paper. The wallpaper in question looks innocent enough, pastel shades, floral design, shiny finish, but do not be deceived, with it's textured outer layer and uber thick lining, this is like no paper product I have ever come across. Yes wood chip, you should quake in its presence, you ain't got nothing on this bad boy. So it is, after 2 soaks with wall paper stripper, many many intensive steams from the steamer, hours of scraping with the brand new, oh so sharp, scraper it became a battle of wills, I would not be defeated by those pale pink flowers! The result a numb right arm, head to toe in mache like strips and still god damn paper on the walls. (I console myself that the manual labour is a good alternative to the gym which I no longer attend and the steam is a great substitute for the facials I can no longer afford!).

My other, slightly more dangerous past time is eBay. Friends have complimented my ability to pick up bargains on eBay, Freecycle, Preloved etc, however the truth is I have no other option. It is a simple equation, more cash available = less time and effort required. If I had spare funds I would indeed pop straight to John Lewis, but I don't, so to eBay I am bound and hours spent in front of my painfully slow laptop. EBay though, is dangerous, you have a spare minute, you have a little browse, something catches your eye and before you know it you have a miniature bath, too small for your bathroom or some french doors which may or may not fit into the intended wall.... and here they are. Pretty ain't they. (apologies for teeny tiny photo).

Bathroom planning is progressing, a few comedy visits from slick haired sales men who can barely conceal their racist, homophobic, sexist tendencies as they refer to the kitchen they designed for a gay couple (but they were lovely people!).

I have whipped up a mood board, I know what I want, alas it seems what I want isn't standard, so the question is, how to achieve kitchen of my dreams on budget of my nightmares... watch this space.

Never Ending Story

So, heeding the advice of all my renovating chums I am completing 1 room at a time, in order to see real progress, prevents losing all will to live apparently. I was very confident that the bedroom and bathroom were pretty much there, bar a little bit of snagging..... hmmmm snagging that just goes on and on and on and on...

Alas it is the small finishing jobs that really take the time and cause the most frustration. I have, in all honesty, painted the bathroom cupboards 5 times now, I have masking taped, touched up, re-masked, re touched up the edges until I can no longer see straight. HOW do you paint a window without getting paint on the handles? How do you beeswax right to the edges without marking the skirting? How do you stop the paint brushes from going manky, even after you have soaked them. These are life's big questions to which I will never know the answer!

I had been warned (many times) of the stress of a project like this, the strain on ones relationship, tempers would fray, arguments inevitable. But as the early 90's icon Sheryl Crow once said "No one said it would be easy, but no one said it would be this hard". A 6am wake up (body clock haywire) complete with hangover, things weren't off to a great start, 8am skip arrival, with nowhere to park didn't help, skip loading pre 9am... steadily worsening...no milk for coffee - oooops, the final straw? A trip to Ikea, yup that should do it!

All we needed was curtains and a loo brush, how bad could it be....? Dear dear lord, 2 hours later with ear drums perforated from the sound of screaming children, we emerged, battle torn and barely able to look at each other, let alone speak. Still, we have curtains!

On my own personal going up and going down barometer.

Going Up:

Arrival of belongings post van Gate (sorry again Phil, see leather chair and lamp)

Small corner of the bedroom which I have styled (makes me very happy- see photo)

Curtains in bedroom (see photo)

Sofa's and a TV set up in the living room (Jeremy Kyle is accompanying me as I write)

Removal of skanky dust sheet that was red carpet in corridor, bare floor boards vast improvement

Bathroom very very pretty.

Going Down:

Quantity of mouse poo I found and swept up in under stairs cupboard. (No amount of naming the mice and pretending they pets will appease me with that scale of rodent guests)

Bath now leaking, dodgy washer or some such.

Shower head not working, lack of pressure.Still no actual lights fitted - loose wires and bare bulbs - industrial chic, yah?

Majority of house still squat like dust bowl.

Next stage, kitchen planning (and lots lots more snagging, obviously!)

Manic Monday

Now, much as I have grown to love the incessant feel and smell of dust and and thoroughly enjoy the company of the non English speaking builders, a girl can get too much of a good thing, and so, in a mad dash for freedom I headed north to see 'the family' (hear Peggy Mitchell). Alas, in the all absorbing world of home improvement no opportunity can be missed and so, after celebrating my Mum's 60th with some cupcake baking, a few days of country air and afternoon teas it was time for mission furniture....

Wonderful friends Debs and Phil very kindly lent us their beloved van to assist us on our mission and last Monday saw us up with the lark to set out on our mammoth day. . .

Step 1: Pack up and leave lovely, dust free, heated, cottage in the Lake District.

Step 2: Drive to Coach House Antiques. Now it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that my Mum is obsessed with this place and, thanks to her enthusiasm, so are my entire family, all her friends and the odd stranger who happens to cross her path. After years of admiring her purchases and having catalogues thrust down my neck today was the day I would finally visit the wholly land.. Obviously I was instructed to dress smartly for the auspicious occasion, sporting my best shoes and cleanest jeans clutching my Mum's membership card (semi religious institution, semi private members club) we arrived. I was not disappointed greeted by the enormous ornate mirrors and life size wall hanging silver angels I soon realised that this place is a veritable mecca of furniture. All your furniture desires in a fantastic range of styles for truly bargainous prices (it is trade only).

Obviously I am not yet worthy of the the real shop so I settled for the seconds outlet, entirely predictably, got totally carried away and within half an hour had a van full to bursting. Highlights including distressed leather wing back chair, dresser for the kitchen, and fantastic lamps a plenty.

Step 3: Collect second hand range cooker recently bought on Preloved, load up van.

Step 4: Drive 45mins to home of Mum and sister to collect various donated items - lamps, bedside tables etc, load up van.

Step 5: Drive an hour to Dad's to collect second hand washing machine, load up van.

Step 6: Set off back on the long long mission to London.

Despite the deafening rattle of all our new purchases in the van we were making very good progress. By 7pm we were optimistic that we could get home, unloaded, return the van and thank you gifts to its owner and be back for our first night in the squat by 10pm. When suddenly, as if from nowhere, as we cruised in the outside lane, totally without warning ans quiet as a mouse the van cut out... simple as that, just stopped working. (I am now thinking I didn't pay sufficient respects to the furniture Gods at Coach house).

We managed to glide over to the hard shoulder and stop safely, I assumed it was tired, a small rest and it would be right as rain... 1o minutes later, nothing, 15 minutes later after a chat with the transport police it was clear we needed to take action. The dreaded phone call to Phil... thankfully he was calm and even more thankfully a member of AA! After an hour freezing on the hard shoulder of the M11 whilst wagons zoomed past and shook the van and us to our core, we were picked up by the lovely AA man who towed us back to Stoke Newington. Wracked with guilt and full of apology we returned the now defunct van to await another AA man and a diagnosis.. fuel pump was the general assumption by one and all.

Eventually made it to the squat for our first nights sleep by midnight, exhausted, cold and guilt ridden. No radiator in the bedroom, no curtains and a window that won't shut, a kitchen with no cooker covered in 2 inches of dust, empty handed yet significantly poorer... welcome home!