We haven't given up on the slum and sold it (although we considered it).
We haven't relocated to the Cayman Islands (although we considered this too).
We did move into a skanky flat, employed a design company, realised the design company were pretty useless, sacked the design company, went out to tender for builders, received pretty useless tenders back, had (and are still having) a protracted argument with our freeholders about planning permission... and to be honest, both got pretty fed up with the whole thing.
Several sense of humor failures later, we've propped each other back up and we're back in the slum.
We've now employed a lovely, efficient, sensible friend of Rob's to do our project management - more of him later.
So - some discoveries. My parents visited the slum for the first time a few weeks ago, and eagle eyed Dad pointed out that the fireplace in the kitchen is surrounded by tiles. I hadn't bothered to remove the woodchip from here before - partly due to woodchip-removal-fatigue, to be honest, but also because we are planning on getting rid of the whole fireplace anyway.
Now from here on, I'll admit my imagination might have slightly run away with me. In my head, underneath that yellow wallpaper was something like this:
Or maybe even this:
Now, I'll admit, the reality was somewhat disappointing. Here's a before and after.
So unless glossy, brown, 70's style tiles are your thing, this wasn't a particularly exciting discovery. In case they are your thing, here's a close up:
So, moving on - Daddy Gee also spotted this:
Ur, yes Siobhan, a horribly painted blue sink? Ah ha, NO! A lovely, stylish, Belfast sink!
See?! Just needs a bit of paint stripper.
We've also realised that the fireplace in the scary-cat-mask room is cast iron...
... and therefore presumably worth something to someone. Although it may be haunted.
And finally, a blog post wouldn't be complete without a bit of wallpaper removal. There was one room we forgot (because we'd filled it with carpet) - the downstairs soon-to-be-bike storage.
This room has life. The wallpaper, in parts, has become one with the wall behind. Together they are growing, spawning, breeding, and spreading. YUK. That big black patch is some sort of mould, and if I become Wheezy the Penguin after this, you'll know it's because I've caught some hideous fungal chest infection.
The other walls, as if in protest at the relative ease with which I was able to scrape off the mould/paper hybrid, hung onto their woodchip with ferocity. We couldn't find an extension lead long enough to bring the steamer down, so I was back to fabric softening the walls instead. This is a wet, messy operation, and I was getting woodchipped hair, so I had to improvise a shower cap:
Apologies to the other pharmacists working at the same Trust as me. It should be a Sainsbury's bag, I know.
Removal of the paper in this room uncovered more distressing evidence that the house is mostly being held together with wallpaper...
Wallpaper, and cement - which seems to have been applied with about the same amount of skill as I'd have to contribute to the job:
Lovely. And if purple, orange and turquoise doesn't say stylish to you, then you are clearly reading the wrong blog.
