16 November 2009

Through My Front Door

I'm new to this blogging thing but I am liking it, and finding it lends a focus to all the things that take up room in my head and stop me from sleeping. I REALLY like the idea of someone else giving me something to write about. This assignment came from Meet Me At Mikes, which I have admired for some time.

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 quite proud of the carpet, 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.

A view through mirrors and doors, nearly in the living room, and if you could just see a bit further you would see windows and the big green outdoors through them. Note the cream rug partially covering the amazing carpet. It just had to be done...there is only so much swirly floralness that can be lived with.

A corner of the bathroom. I found this curly white chair in a second hand shop for only $5. The bathroom was probably the most hideous room in the house, but now I love it. I pulled up the mouldy beige carpet (! yes, bathroom carpet, not a good idea), sanded/stained the floors, and painted everything a pale dusky grey.

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.

A corner of the bedroom -  a pile of old quilts and one of those candlewick bedspreads I remember from my childhood, usually on a bed in Grandma's spare room.

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.

If you have taken the time to read this, thank you, especially because you may possibly be my first visitor!

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