Gone

The old kitchen is no more. It has ceased to be. It is an ex-kitchen. There's only the wall that butts onto next door with a narrow cavity between, and the concrete foundations which will be lifted today. We don't know if Brewie plans to keep and re-use the side wall or not. I don't think he can, as it needs to come out to enable him to dig down the correct depth of foundations. Hmm. Intriguing. I've just noticed that the wood shed on the left has gone too.

I can only take photos from the upstairs windows and can't get into the yard because by the time I get round after the school run they've finished for the day and screwed on the panel over the kitchen/hall doorway, stopping hoodilums from getting in.


all gone

While Becca was at a campfire party at West Boldon Lodge, eating marshmallows and chasing toads, I spent two hours stripping. I'm getting good at it, and I hardly made any gouge marks at all. I think I have developed a relationship with the green-handled paint scraper. We've been through a lot together and we have more work to do, but I don't think it will let me down.

I daresn't count them

isn't it beautiful

The bannister is very handsome under that nasty paint; bronzed and glowing. Tony's buying me 10 gallons of Nitromors and some think gloves today. I also have a tentative go at the newel post. Only the flat bits, and it's rougher underneath than I'd have guessed, so that will need some work.



that acorn needs to go

While I was working away I was thinking about the stairs. The last three houses I've lived in didn't have stairs, but our family home in Liverpool did. These will be the stairs that the kids storm up and down, the stairs I'll send them up when I'm annoyed with them, the stairs we'll run down on Christmas morning. Where TJ will sit on and cry when he splits up with his first love. The stairs Rebecca will come down wearing her prom dress, or suit. Stairs mean a lot to me.