16 November 2009

Through My Front Door

Our front door has that old fashioned thick wavy glass in it. It makes things on the other side look strange and slightly scary. Here is a picture of L when he was a baby, looking truly odd.

The house is a throwback to many eras, just because it's an old fashioned New Zealand state house, probably built in the 1930s. Along the way it has obviously seen a number of redecorating efforts, and when we moved in, it was like a relic from a bad corner of 1969 - floral wallpaper, mustard-coloured paintwork (to match the dark brown ceilings), and most importantly, the marvellous swirly carpet running through the hallway right through to the living room.

Because it's a rental property, and the owners are convinced the carpet is a masterpiece, there's not a lot I can do about it. After many attempts at disguise (runners, mats and hair-brained fantasies about ripping it up and re-laying it when we leave) I am now pretending it is part of my amazing retro design aesthetic.

This house is like the Tardis. It looks like a shoe box from the outside, and once you are in, it stretches endlessly into the distance. People are often surprised when they see there is actually room to move. Here on the right of the front door is the beginnings of a family photo gallery. Only black and white photos are allowed. I usually stop and have a look at it at least once a day. My family are all here, keeping us company.


This is Neil. He is often to be found lying in patches of sunlight, his rather large body squashed into tiny spaces. He has moved houses with us three times.

Through the hallway, out the living room windows and into the garden with towels on the line and a glimpse of my strawberry plants in the background, next to a shed that is drowning in ivy. The garden is an old-fashioned quarter acre section, excellent for summer croquet/soccer/trampolining.

No comments:

Post a Comment