So, how the house is looking now…
Lounge room now. Nope, we don’t have a couch. Nope, those chairs aren’t comfortable. But they were free – the brown one was a gift for my 17th birthday, and the green one we found on the side of the road. The mishmash of rugs are to try and stop cold rising up from the floor. (See also: piles of blankets and pillows.)
The fabric curtain is tacked on the bathroom door because the sliding door is really loud, and there wasn’t really enough room for a hinged door.
Yeah, you know, I’m human and sometimes I don’t feel like cleaning the slow cooker pot right now, ok?
Main bedroom. The walls are purple… It doesn’t get great light because the window is south-facing and the neighbours’ house is pretty close next door. (Please ignore the lack of handles on the cupboards and drawers – I still don’t have screws of the appropriate length.)
Devin’s room. I love the louvre windows, but they are not very practical in winter – it gets quite cold in there. (Yes, yes, pile of washing, Dev was staying at Grandma’s house and anyway I was getting around to it…)
The bathroom didn’t change, except for the shelves Dad built for some storage, because he had planned on knocking out the wall between the bathroom and laundry at a later stage.
And this is the laundry, also unchanged. Also where the shower is. Also I’ve been putting off cleaning Devin’s little sofa.
And the backyard. There’s a little pen down the back left where chickens were at one stage, and we hope to one day make it bigger and get some chickens of our own. I’d like a vegetable garden and composting on the back right, but all the work I’ve done up until now has been clearing rubbish, basically. I guess people used to bury their rubbish? Broken glass and rusty scrap metal and such. Delightful. The house is 80 years old, though.
I didn’t have a picture of the second bedroom, which is Jene’s study, but it’s the same dark grey as Devin’s room in case we decide to switch them later.
EDIT: I have some photos now. The window faces east and looks out to the front verandah, hence the funny light.
And there it is.
At Dad’s funeral, the director asked us if we’d like to take a flower as a memento. I thought for a moment, and declined. I’m living in a memento. Mum’s living in a memento – Dad built that house and all the gardens himself. Now I have to do my best to continue what he helped us start.