Taking a break week commencing 25th March because of tech problems and too much else going on. Hope to be back soon.
So this was actually forced on me by my plant murdering antics – but here’s a quick post charting the shifting contents of my kitchen shelf – currently starring in a Houzz article on floor to ceiling units. When I started the project I was going for an urban jungle type feel with the plants so verdant they were almost forcing their way off the shelf.
But once the plants started suffering it all got a little bit sparse, despite the addition of a couple of new pieces, including a lovely Hornsea pottery coffee pot picked up at an antiques market on holiday last year.
It desperately needed a boost and I remembered this lovely flower bowl from Anagram Antiques’ Instagram feed, which luckily Steve still had available.
Which gave me a chance to move things around a bit and promote the Hornsea pot to the plant shelf (where it kind of blends in on account of its greenness).
Still needed more though, so I broke out my vintage sugar jars from their home in the larder (lovely as they are they’d proved somewhat lacking in airtightness) and put them on show. A quick tidy of the lower levels and it was done, for now.
And the moral of this story…even objects benefit from a change of scene from time to time, and a quick revamp can be done for little or no cost at all.
This Wednesday I’m celebrating imperfections. Usually What Went Wrong Wednesday is about bad choices, but this time it’s about the things that should have been bang on, but for a bang (or spill, or crash).
First up is our fridge door. Now you’ll be aware that one of the features of the last house was a somewhat protracted build. And one of my triumphs was ordering a full set of Siemens and Miele appliances before the first Brexit price-hike(I think I probably saved about £1500). Unfortunately that meant lots of things spending lots of time in warehouses, and nobody really knows at what stage the door acquired its distinctive ding. We noticed as soon as it was installed, and could have got Siemens to provide a free replacement. I got as far as finding out how to make that happen. But when I thought about the resource implications of sending someone out to remove a perfectly serviceable door, importing a new one from Germany to replace it, and then consigning the old one to landfill I couldn’t go through with it.
And the more I thought about it, the more I embraced the ding. Because, smug eco-credentials aside, it made the next blip – might have been the bashed up corner of the larder door, the odd screw on the shoe cabinet or the bent out of shape window pull – easier to take.
And yes I could get all of these things fixed. But if I do it’s only going to be a matter of weeks before the rug acquires another stain or someone opens a second door too vigorously and takes a chunk out of the plaster. And I’m trying to make a home not a show-home – and what use is a home if you’re too scared to live in it. So, notwithstanding all my efforts toward loveliness, I’m trying to let go of perfection.
(PS, if anyone knows a good rug cleaner please let me know)
So since I’ve promised myself not to spend any money on the house this year, and since the weather is (sort of) improving, I’m turning my thoughts to the garden with an occasional series on how we got it to its current state, and what comes next.
I’d more or less ignored the garden at the old house for the first ten years that we’d lived there, but had lately come to love gardening so it was exciting to have more space to play with (nearly double the length)
When we viewed the house it was the middle of winter and we’d no idea what we were inheriting. It was an unexpected delight to move in, in March, to a flush of wisteria, and then a fairly anxious year-long wait to see if it, and other mature specimens including a quince and several rhododendrons had survived its year as a builders yard. I had promised myself a rest after completing the kitchen but of course, no sooner had we sat down to that family Easter lunch than I was feeling that the view from the back door needed some improvement.
We’d already asked the builders to fill in the fish pond which was positioned somewhat eccentrically (and scarily) just a couple of steps from the old back door (now the centre bay window). And to make us a new patio from the old paving which we’d salvaged from the side return. But (aside from the shrubs) the rest was an unappealing mix of rutted grass and rubble. I needed to create some breathing space for us and the plants, and committed to an hour’s digging and tilthing (is that a word) each morning of the April half term – until I’d got a roughly level area around half the length of the garden on which to sow a lawn. And that, I promised myself, really would be that for the year…
In the old house we prided ourselves on only having one TV…admittedly it was massive and bang in the centre of the sitting room, above the fireplace. And everyone in the family had tablets too, but at least we were officially a one TV household.
This time though we’ve got three. Mainly because I wanted to make the tv less of a focus. The giant one has been relegated to PS4 duties in the man cave and there’s a little one in the guestroom for when grandparents want to get away from it all.
But the star of the show is the sitting room telly, the one I wanted to be unobtrusive. I went for a Samsung Serif, designed by the Bouroullec brothers, who also work for firms like Hay (I’ve got my eye on one of their sofas) and Vitra. Lots of people ask if it’s a TV, but I think it’s exactly how a TV should look – like it’s from the Jetsons.
I love the colour, and the overall design, but my favourite thing about it is the legs. Lots of our sitting room furniture is on legs and it really increases the spaciousness of the room. They also mean we can sit it in an alcove, with shelves above, and allow a picture to have pride of place over the fireplace.
If you’re planning where to put your telly, do explore your options before defaulting to sticking it in a corner on a media unit, the furniture that design forgot. It’s hard to find an elegant media unit, and now we’ve more or less dispensed with VHS and DVD players there’s really no need for one. Your TV will be much happier on a bracket or a shelf, and your living room will love you for it.
The other week I wrote about how Mark and I got rid of a 5 amp lighting circuit in the old house, only to put one into the new house. And I’ve got a similar story today, this time about wall lights.
To be fair to us, the wall lights we took out (from the sitting room) could not have been more eighties. They were plaster sconces which I think were meant to be painted the colour of the wall but hadn’t been. They looked kind of clumsy and threw the light straight upward rather than helpfully outwards – rather like the bar in an airport hotel (or the stairwell at work).
By contrast, in each of the four places we’ve used wall lights here, it’s been to a particular purpose. We’ve also made sure that they hold their own as decorative items. The Artemide Teti lights (with Tala Porcelain 1 bulbs) in the kitchen are a neat way to light the dining area without obstructing the skylights. They’re on a separate circuit to the lights for the cooking zone – so that we can control the mood. I had originally wanted something bigger and more dramatic but being toward the end of the project money was tight – and I think that actually pushed me in the right direction.
Also in the kitchen is a wall mounted Anglepoise spot. Again this is on a separate circuit and controlled by an integral switch. It was a particular bargain – picked up in the clearance section at John Lewis Stratford City for a third of list price.*
It means we can just light our window nook – either to curl up on the sofa for a read, or to provide a gentle residual glow from the kitchen while we’re in the sitting room next door.
By contrast the wall light in our loft dressing room is one of the least bargainy things in the house – a full price Riddle light from Bert Frank which I fell in love with the first time I saw it in an interiors mag. I was happy to splash out because it does an important job – providing a moody light for bathing when you don’t want the glare of the spots. I’ve never really liked candles so this suits my aesthetic much better.
Finally to the spare room where Made.com Cohen wall lights offer an affordable and practical way of minimising bedside clutter. And not a sconce amongst them.
* This is a top tip if you live in East London and are hunting for bargain lights – there often seem to be good quality lights on discount in this section – I assume they’re customer returns which they’ve decided not to return to the depot.
I’m returning to the guestroom this week, to talk about how we designed the space. We wanted family and friends to be comfortable staying for a decent length of time which meant it couldn’t do double duty as an office or workroom.
It needed a generous bed, somewhere to relax and sufficient clothes storage for a week-long stay. The starting point for the colour scheme, which is more subdued (restful?) than the rest of the house, were the curtains which we brought with us when we moved across the road and the fabulous sketches above the bed by local artist Nish Designs.
Ideally the room also needed an en-suite. Because however wipe-clean we’d made the family bathroom there was no guarantee it would stay that way. I played with lots of layouts but couldn’t find one I was happy with. They all seemed to compromise the bedroom space too much.
And then inspiration struck us both at once – we could steal 30cm of depth from the middle bedroom (the dead space to one side of the door) to help create a metre wide shower room across the back wall. The space saved meant a kingsize bed could sit facing the bay, and there would still be space to walk round.
It helped to have an unobtrusive bed frame, and the Habitat Tatsuma fit the bill perfectly. Wall mounted EKET boxes make great bedside tables, and keep the floor clear and a 30cm deep PAX frame with two drawers provides a decent amount of wardrobe space, without crowding the room.
We even found room for a small television, redeploying our old hall console as a stand/ bookshelf. And using the rear wall rather than the far wall for our ensuite meant we got to save the house’s last remaining original fireplace (the others had gone before we moved in). Overall it’s one of my favourite spaces in the house – even though it’s the one I use least.