I've been on a mission. A painting mission. Sometimes I just need to paint. I'll start painting,whether it's whilst cooking the tea,whether I've just come home from work totally exhausted or it's nearly midnight, I suddenly get the urge to paint walls. I find it therapeutic.
Our life-saving, all singing all dancing re-mortgage has fallen through so all my fancy plans are scuppered, we even heard the word 'holiday'mentioned ( ahh 'holiday'..hmm that must be one of those fun jollies we had 12 years ago) and that's down the pan too, I have the bank on my back, the mortgage company on my back and everything has got a bit rubbish again..so what do i do?
First off was stinky Harry's room..A teeny weeny box room a bed length long and not quite a bed wide, like the kitchen why oh why does our late 1920s house have these tiny rooms? Furniture was huge back then..all those cumbersome deco chairs and oak bedroom suites..what was the architect thinking?!
Pete had a friend cut down Harry's ancient (£10 bargain) ex boarding school bed for us and weld it back together so at least we can change the room around, the door wouldn't even open fully before! I unpicked the curtains and made them into roman blinds which look a bit more grown up now, The left overs will be made into cushions or something ,Then I made a Cath Kidston style duvet with some very cheap spotty sale fabric from Laura Ashley which I knew would come in handy one day. It still has that vintagey vibe but is a bit more suitable for a teenager.The remnants from a cowboy bedroom past, tucked away in a cupboard.. and the cowboy cushions haven't yet found themselves shoved under the bed. The nasty cheap 2nd hand chest just needs another lick of paint now. I really wanted to cover it in pages from vintage comics and add a red spotty oilcloth top but I got a very definite 'NO'.
...infact the tiny bit of extra weight of the comics would probably make the drawers collapse, that is just how cheap and nasty they are!(they certainly don't make 'em like they used to)
Awww I don't want the stinky boys to grow up.. in the shower for hours and and these deep voices I don't recognise, coming home from school/college and then disappearing only to return for huge amounts of food and disappear again with the odd mumble. It's scary thing, this adolescence lark.
I find it so hard to let go and allow them to choose their own things, to have their own style and be individual but at the same time you want the house to blend in room to room.Harry does seem to like vintage stuff but George on the other hand, wants his room to look like a Next catalogue. Not really my thing, as think I've said before on this blog.
He came home the other day and I had painted his room completely white..lovely clean, wonderful bright white. Clean bright white with a hint of rugby pitch mud by the same evening....how do they do it?
I want to add a huge Roy Lichtenstein 60s style comic book painting to the vast white wall on one sidebut he wants a Banksy (the hooligan) well I suppose it does have some flowers(!)
I would like him to have a crochet granny blanket and a red spotty beanbag but no, he'd rather have boring beige faux suede and cold feet.The cushions are an ongoing thing,I put them on the bed, he puts them on the floor in my bedroom.( I remember Jane from her blog Posy saying something along those lines with her teenage son and a granny blanket!)
I think I drive them nuts with my decorating obsession,they just humour me and hope I'll scuttle off and paint something else...Silly mummy.
I can't show you how the room looks now all nice and white and painted arranged in a different layout as it's nearly midday and he's still in it, still asleep. Festering like teenage boys do.
It will need fumigating before I venture in and open the blinds/windows and poke the stinky boy with a stick to make him get out of bed.
I have already got in my mind how this room will look when he leaves home, the blue and pink Cath Kidston rug that's in our room, the floral bedcovers and pretty flowery pictures and that modern lamp can go straight away, I have a pretty china one that belonged to my granny, I'm itching, itching to see what it would all look like but know it will be a good few years yet.
Poor George,turfed out onto the streets for the sake of a floral boudoir..hmmm no,now I would never be that mean, turfed onto the streets?..no, we do have a perfectly good shed after all! ;0)