Week twelve - Siobhan should go away more often

Sorry for the blog silence - it wasn't because the slum had been bought by a local millionaire after seeing our awesome progress with it, or because Kevin McCloud had finally realised that it was a big mistake not to feature us on Grand Designs and so I was bound by a secrecy contract, or because we finally lost our minds in Ikea and gave up on the whole project.  Except that Rob almost did.

No, the reason for the silence is because I've been backpacking round China for the last three weeks, and so 

1) I wasn't in Nunhead to see slum progress
2) I was behind the Great Chinese (Fire) Wall so couldn't access the blog even if I had wanted to
3) I left Rob in charge of blogging

and

4) Rob lost his mind in Ikea.

Oh dear.  

There were tears, tantrums, and I wasn't around to witness any of them.  Rob maintains that this was A Good Thing, but I suspect it was actually A Very Bad Thing and I really should have been there to help share the stress.  Or at least prevent Very Bad Things happening to the poor assistants in Ikea.

To summarise an extremely lengthy and frustrating story, it took Rob more than four hours, and multiple trips to two different branches of Ikea on opposite sides of London to order a few items of furniture.  It would have been quicker if I'd have popped into the Shanghai branch whilst I was there.  He is in fact still there as I type, picking up yet another light fitting.

In the grand scheme of things, this is annoying but will mean that, in the worst case, we will be sitting on cushions for the next few weeks.

Except that cushions are banned in Rob's minimalist flat so we may be standing.  

Anyway, my three week absence has meant that this week's blog will be as spectacular to you as the big reveal of all the recent work was to me today.  Here we go!

That's Rob, lost in a snowdrift demonstrating the new, very white, hallway.

Here's a close up of the newly painted stairs:

And at the top of those stairs, this is the brand new sliding door to the mezzanine bathroom.  Rob is VERY pleased it with, as you can tell by his smug, beardy expression (pining over me whilst I was away apparently resulted in some suspect facial hair):

Look!  It opens and everything!

This is the lovely new shower in that bathroom:

And the sink and bathroom cabinet (so shiny!):

And now, prepare yourselves - here is your first view of the new kitchen, all completed!  SQUEAL!

It is LOVELY.  LOVELY.  

Rob then proceeded to demonstrate just how much cooking I would be able to do for him, in this new lovely kitchen.  Which was lovely.

Here's the new sink, with that nice tap I chose:

Which, Rob reminds me, we won't be using, because that right hand unit is the dishwasher.

Here's a view of the very lovely quartz worktop.  It's very shiny, and very cold.  Which is ideal for making pastry, as Rob helpfully pointed out.  Lots of pastry items that I can then cook for him in the lovely oven.

Now, in Rob's Ikea-induced delirious rage, because he was unable to actually get hold of the things we need (sofas, beds - nothing really important or anything), he decided to buy other really important things, like laundry bins and mini step ladders.

Why a mini step ladder I hear you ask?

Because this is the shelf he has kindly provided for me to put my cookery books on:

Hard to see in our snowstorm-themed house, but trust me, that shelf is at least a foot above the top of my head.

Onwards to the study, where we find this mysterious item, left by the builders:

Goodness knows what they needed a tennis ball for.  Especially since this room is really more similar to a squash court.

In the sitting room, some of the lighting has been installed, including this up-lighter that Rob is again, very proud of:

The light for this end of the sitting room is arriving from Italy, at some point between now and next year - the Italians are delightfully laissez faire about the delivery schedule (or whatever the Italian equivalent is).

Builder's tea break update time: I still can't see where the vinegar has gone, but the biscuit of choice this week is a dark chocolate digestive:

Moving upstairs (here's the view of the hallway):

The upstairs bathroom is looking very shiny, and almost finished:

Luckily Rob fits in the shower cubicle, and is demonstrating here his amazing ability to open shower cubicle doors using only the power of his mind:

The hanging rail has been installed in the bedrooms:

Back downstairs, the scary asbestos electrical situation still hasn't been sorted out, and neither have the library shelves.  That big cardboard box contains the light fitting for the hall though - you'll have to wait for the reveal!  

PS - isn't the window lovely.

Finally, Rob was showing me the light bulbs he has bought when I spotted this on the upper shelf in the kitchen:

That's dishwasher tablets.  Rob has made sure we have our priorities right.  Who needs sofas if you can do the washing up.

And look how sweet our builders are.  They are walking around in plastic shoe covers to make sure they don't ruin our lovely new floors.  We are currently considering whether we will ask all our visitors to do the same...

Week eight - the white goods have landed

How exciting.  How exciting.  Exciting!  

This week is the beginning of the interior.  Things are starting to go into our used-to-be-horrible completely white box.

Exciting!

First, we now have some (white) shelves in our (white) cupboards in the (white) bedrooms!

Now, these shelves might not look terrifically interesting to you, but their configuration was the subject of several arguments between me and Rob, so you'd better appreciate them.

The other half of the cupboards will have hanging rails:

They were less controversial, so you are free to think what you like about them.

Continuing with the excitement upstairs, we now have a bath and toilet!  

Now then, an important lesson folks.

I have learnt on this epic Grand Designs style journey, that several things in houses that you thought you knew the name of, you actually don't.  Or rather, if you use the names that you thought were the normal ones to use, you will be instantly exposed as a Kevin McCloud stalking fake, a DIY disaster zone, an interior design faker.

We don't have a bath and toilet, we have sanitaryware.

And, more excitingly for the poor builders than us, the toilet sanitaryware is fully functional.

(Don't think too hard about what they have been doing for the past eight weeks.  I'm trying not to).

Moving downstairs, and surpassing the sanitaryware in excitement levels from me, is the arrival of the kitchen units:

Don't worry, those ones above that look like the square white cousins of the daleks, convening an evil world-takeover plotting meeting, are actually upside down.   

Here are their brothers, confusingly stationed in the sitting room (presumably not permanently, although the builders might be forgiven for some confusion as the kitchen was delivered without a plan for putting it together, making the construction rather like the Ikea version of the Krypton Factor).

And here's the fridge, freezer, and washing machine.  In the library.  With the candlestick.

I have a feeling that the lack of a design plan and the delivery of several incorrect units is only the beginning of a long kitchen-installation saga, because we've also discovered that, just to make things even more tricky, one of the walls is wonky.  Of course.

Demonstrated here by the whacking great gap at the back of this cabinet.

Brilliant.

No builder's tea break news this week, so instead I will share with you my discovery of this:  

Nope, I haven't a clue either.

Week seven - Dante arrives in Nunhead

We were away again this weekend, so this week's blog is not only a bit late, but was also researched in the dark, so apologies for some of the off-kilter photos.

Rob had been to see the slum late last week, and so was keen to show me the major progress with the floor.  Here's our nice new sanded floor downstairs:

And here are the newly sanded stairs:

And here's the banister.

Don't panic anyone - it will all be washed white in due course.

Now, I won't bore you here with our tales of sanitary ware woe - lets focus on the positives, which are currently (limited to) this toilet:

And the bath:

Two things to explain here.

Firstly, we haven't gone crazy and ordered a cardboard bath, in some fit of over-zealous anti-consumerism recycling.

Secondly, I'm really hoping that Iliyan hasn't lost that vital bathroom plan, and hasn't accidentally installed the bath in the sitting room, because it's currently obstructing the space for the new dining table.

In other odd news, we started to wonder whether the builders were staging a protest against our plans for pretentiously arty light fittings, because they seem to have installed their own suggestions instead:

It was at about this point that we started to feel rather warm.  Not just warm, but properly toasty.  Really, really roasting.  

Turns out the underfloor heating definitely, definitely works.

Definitely.

Here it is.

It got progressively hotter as we moved upstairs, where we discovered the heat was so intense it had melted one of the builders:

It was honestly too hot to stick around for much longer, so I'll leave you with two final things.

An update on the tea break situation - the tea room has moved, and you will be interested to learn that, flying gently and delicately in the face of outdated builder stereotypes, your average builder in 2012 prefers a cup of raspberry, strawberry, and loganberry infusion to fuel him through the day:

And, perhaps due to the overwhelming heat haze, Rob seemed to go through the rabbit hole.  Has he shrunk?  Grown?  Or is it all an optical illusion?  And where is the vinegar?!

Week six - it's (almost) all white here

For our weekly slum inspection this week, we were met by a very pleased looking builder. 

And a Very Pleased Builder is a Very Good Thing.

He is pleased, because the upstairs is now largely white, which he has learnt will Please Rob.

And he is pleased, because it is time to put shelving and rails in the storage cupboards upstairs for all my tat extensive wardrobe, which he has learnt will Please Siobhan.

And We Are Pleased.

The bedrooms upstairs really do look fabulous.  Now all I have to do is figure out how many shelves I want.  

What will actually happen, of course, is:

1. Siobhan will suggest what design she would like for the inside of the cupboards.
2. Rob will listen to this suggestion, and respond with an completely poker face.
3. Siobhan will assume this is confirmation of agreement.
4. Over the coming weeks, Rob will say nothing, but using Jedi powers, Derren Brown Mind Control, and probably the Eye of Sauron, subtly impart his opinion for interior design into Siobhan's consciousness.
5. By the end of the project, Siobhan will find herself living in an empty, white box, with Rob saying 'but we decided this together, dear'.

*sigh*

Anyway, the bathrooms are coming on.  I hope someone knows what to do with this lot:

We have some lovely heated towel rails (no shower, toilet, sink or bath, but we will have warm towels).

I'm also relieved to report that health and safety has returned to the slum, as the banister has been replaced at the top of the stairs.  Now I can stop repeating 'Don't fall down the stairs don't fall down the stairs don't fall down the stairs don't fall down the stairs don't fall down the stairs' to myself every time I visit:

At the bottom of the stairs the minimalist encroachment stops. 

The kitchen is all ready for its Ikea make over.  Check out the UFH complexity, waiting to be plumbed in.  

And spot the architect.

 Now, this might seem like a very minor thing to most of you, but we are excited about this.

Not the yellow bucket.

Or Joao's legs.

But this section of floor downstairs hasn't been level, ever.

Now it is.

See, exciting!

And look how great that step is into the bike storage area.  I think the concept of making a step is so alien, so manly, so.... well, I couldn't do it.  So I'm finding this step quite exciting.

Gosh, that yellow bucket is keen on the limelight.

Outside, we are apparently taking a stance against the early arrival of Christmas in Nunhead.

See if you can spot the wreath (the origins of which are a complete mystery to me):

And finally, we still have some lovely (obviously not lovely enough to remain in the slum, but sacrifices had to be made for the UFH) original floorboards going spare.