Changing Rooms

My house currently looks like a bomb has hit it. Now, we are not normally an untidy lot and the self-employed cleaner (otherwise known as the wife) keeps on top of things fastidiously. However I am in the midst of refurbishing our daughter’s bedroom and the resultant debris fall out zone extends throughout the whole dwelling.

I have disassembled furniture taking up most of the family room, part-disassembled furniture still in the room and the contents of underneath her old cabin bed strewn over the hall, my bedroom floor, the living room and son’s room. How can stuff that fitted in the smallest bedroom suddenly take up most of the rest of the house?

Furthermore, daddy’s little girl is resisting throwing things out like her life depended on it and is clearly one of that hoarder type personalities who may very well end up with her own house full to the ceiling with books, newspapers, old school work from primary two and her own body fluids kept in plastic bottles.

I mean once you’ve looked at one scribbly sketch from when she was seven, you’ve kind of looked at them all. Surely one or two representative pieces of her “artwork” could be selectively chosen and kept. I think she possibly considers that if she does turn into a world renowned artist that her early work could be worth a fortune at auction one day. (Trust me it won’t)

She has every soft toy she ever had and doesn’t expect to part with any of them. We have even roped in the grandparents to hijack their loft to store these things in perpetuity.

Despite these slight hurdles, I also still have to paint the room using no less than three different colours, remove the existing carpet, curtain pole and light fittings. All immediately prior to replacing all of the above and trying to work out where the massive expected cargo load of IKEA furniture boxes are going to be stored.

Meanwhile, I have put together the new bed, which will have to be dismantled again prior to painting and the carpet being fitted - before being reassembled again.....and we are going on holiday for a week......Arggghhh – who planned all this chaotic mayhem?

Well, okay it was me. But it seemed like a good idea at the time. However, like a shark smelling blood, at first sight of a colour chart the self-employed cleaner has driven herself into a frenzy and is now talking about decorating the bathroom and family room. Casually dropped in “While you’re at it”.

Yeah, like I’ll just squeeze it in to my wide open schedule. Maybe I should stick a broom up my butt and sweep the floor at the same time.

Edinburgh

Back to work with a bump following an extended long weekend which involved a brief visit to Edinburgh. I always like the feel of the Scottish capital in the summer, yes it’s full of Americans buying tartan outfits by the dozen and posses of Japanese with camera shutters clicking away, but there is a nice buzz about the place. I think its called atmosphere, yes that’s it. The Castle, The Ghost Tours, The Zoo there’s something for everyone

It’s especially lovely in the sunshine, where you can soak up some rays in Princess Street Gardens or quench a beer al-fresco outside a local cafe bar. However, it bucketed down with rain this time and so outdoor pursuits were limited except for the die-hard umbrella and cagoule brigade.

If you are ever looking to fill a few hours indoors, the National Museum is highly recommended by me, following our last rain soaked visit to Edinburgh a couple of years ago. This time however, we ventured to a place I hadn’t been before – The Real Mary King’s Close. Underground narrow streets, passages and tiny rooms that once provided residence to Edinburgh’s medieval population before being built over.

It’s Kind of like a cross between factual documentary and a most haunted experience, but not quite as scary as the underground vault tour you can take at midnight. Anyway, my twelve year old was impressed and thought the tour guide did a great job, and I, despite slight claustrophobia and vertigo survived to fight another day.

Our other great venture was to another of Edinburgh’s world famous tourist attractions, that’s right Ikea. The historic blue and yellow facade, hewn by hand from ancient sandstone....., well not really. Anyway, we had a look around trying to inspire my daughter who is about to have her bedroom re-done. She wasn’t convinced before we got there and thought I was pulling her leg about the Swedish meatballs, but in the end found some stuff she liked.

When I agreed to do up her room, I was thinking a lick of paint, a few nik-naks and some new curtains – however we are now looking at a new wardrobe, drawers, bed frame, carpet, lighting....otherwise known to Dad’s everywhere as ££££’s, a week of decorating and cursing while having to re-assemble the wardrobe correctly for the third time.

We should have just gone to the Zoo. In fact if you didn’t have to book three years in advance to see the bloody Panda’s, I might have managed to escape the room revamp for another couple of months.