front door

 

 

I am really struggling at the moment to concentrate. My day-to-day thoughts, when I am not being forced to discuss FIFA or Minecraft with Dexter, are all about my new house. They are literally all consuming.

 

I dream about what colour my front door will be. Seriously. Should I replace what’s already there? Or is that an extravagance when renting? Should I be bold and have a bright red door, or be more subtle and go for something more Farrow and Ball-esque? Am I the only person that dreams about these things?  Btw, I am under no illusion my front door will end up looking like the one above! (Unfortunately.)

 

Because an old lady lived in this house, and I daren’t ask whether she died there too, the house is getting completely refurbished so I have seen it looking like one thing (stuck in a 70’s timewarp) and the finished product will be a completely different thing. And of course, it will only be an improvement, but the not knowing is killing me!

 

I presume the landlord will neutralise everything, but will it be white or cream? I love white, hate cream! Will the carpets been light or dark? As I said before, I’m Pinning on Pinterest like mad and have so many ideas … but I also have no money. Minor drawback.

 

I’m no stranger to charity shops, in fact I bought my previous sofas from a charity shop. I love the idea of buying something brand-new but who has £600+ spare these days? My plan is that until I can either find a decent sofa in a charity shop or I win the lottery (which I don’t actually do), we will just spend our time in our bedrooms to start with, so it’s really important that I make those rooms at the very least, habitable. We have beds, thankfully, but I don’t have a TV after I kindly donated mine to Dexter. Although that was a purely selfish move because it meant that I didn’t have to listen to FIFA in the lounge any more.

 

yellow sofa

(I’m totally in love with this yellow sofa, but it might be a step too far!)

 

 

But the more I think about the finer things, the more I think about the most important things. It is imperative we are safe and secure and I am really happy with the area we will be in. As I said before, it seems really quiet yet accessible to Dexter’s potential new school, and shops, and I can only hope that the neighbours keep themselves to themselves. That sounds awfully unsociable, I just mean that I don’t want to hear any music blasting late at night, like my best friend has to put up with on a nightly basis.

 

I never thought I would be starting again aged 44. And yet here I am, with barely a penny to my name, about to try and start a new life again for Dexter and I. We have decided as a family that Ben, my eldest, won’t be living with us anymore. Although the door is obviously always open to him, he will be living with a friend for the next year whilst he is on a work placement, and that makes me incredibly sad. Him being nearby but not living with us is a really strange concept for me to grasp and I don’t think I’m going to cope with it very well, bearing in mind I’m crying as I write this!

 

grey chair

(It seems I’m obsessed with grey and yellow at the moment.)

 

Another unknown is that I don’t have a moving in date. The landlord isn’t sure how long the refurbishment will take and both of us can only guesstimate how long that will be. If he could time it so that I could move in as soon as I leave this house in three weeks’ time, that would be perfect, but of course that won’t happen. I will have to ensure I have a plan B, that doesn’t involve camping on the Council’s front step with all our belongings.

 

I feel a mixture of emotions. I’m excited about this next chapter, nervous it won’t go through, anxious about how Dexter will cope with more new things happening this year for him and I will really miss my eldest son.

 

I think once I’m in the house everything will fall into place but the anticipation is killing me! I have never been a very patient person but there’s not much I can do about this.

 

More new home ramblings to follow no doubt. Thanks for listening.

 

 

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