"The Time Has Come", The Walrus said...

Not  "to talk of many things: Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax-- Of cabbages--and kings..."

But to discuss the fact that The Man and his brother made such strides towards the current renovation project in our home, over the weekend, I thought there must have been vodka in the drinking water.

It looks like this baby will actually have a room, and I'm no longer eyeing off the fan blades in the lounge room as a potential 'cot' because I won't have anywhere to put a real one.

I'll admit, it was a risk letting the two of them take on the demolition. The Man and his brother are terrifyingly accident prone. If something could possibly happen, it inevitably will. It's in their DNA.

I married the one in red...

In true family style, they proceeded to remove gyprock and other miscellaneous building materials from our home with a ladder that was too short, no shoes, no safety glasses, bare hands and with the electricity still running through the house while hammering and chiseling into the wall...that contains the central power board.

I suppose their main line of safety was that beer would not be consumed on the job.

Thank fuck.

Somehow, the only 'massive' injuries sustained were a chisel into the hand (brother) and near impalement with a section of wood that only amounted to massive bruising (The Man). I was informed that he truly has 'balls of steel' because that was what got in the way.

Bandaids and laughter appeared to be the remedy.

Very few nails were stepped on, and each had the courtesy of warning one another whenever they did so. Because, you know, removing them would have been sensible.

When pondering how to thank The Brother for all his hard work, it occured to me the best thank you gift would be a tetanus shot and offering to stitch up his hand. Or just get him home alive to his wife and their unborn child.

Happily, the construction of the new wall and relocation of the door frame will be done by someone else entirely. Although he is an army bud of The Brother, so safety standards could be questionable.

I'll just take Miss 3 to the park and pretend it's not happening.

But in the meantime, I have to try and appear knowledgeable while The Man talks to me about what the electrician will need to do, and data cables, and practical locations for power points and light switches and fan controls and how easy it will be to finish off the floor.

That's totally awesome, but in the meantime I'm more concerned about the gyprock being fixed in the adjoining wall, since the demolition wasn't *strictly* controlled and has now spread to Miss 3's bedroom too.

We are 15 weeks away from blast off in my uterus, and I feel like the space is 25 weeks away from completion. But I have every confidence it will be done in time.

Whether or not the brother's end up in the hospital ward next to me is something we'll have to wait and see...

Crafty or Crazy?

I enjoy art. And I like to think I am quite good at slapping paint on a canvas - hence why our house is filled with various artworks I've created over the years.

There is also a canvas hanging in our hallway that the Toddler and her friends at day care painted. I say painted when what I actually mean is splattered. And they then used this canvas to ignite a bidding war amongst parents to raise blood pressures bids money for the centre.

We won. And I have to say, considering I could have got the Toddler to create the same thing at home for $5, the amount we paid for the Pro Hart inspired work makes part of my brain wince. And my left eye tic.

But moving on!

I was browsing the local Spotlight store with my Mum and the Toddler yesterday, actually finding some lovely new canisters for the coffee/tea/sugar when mid hunt for some more paper for the Toddler's a-frame whiteboard/chalk board/painting station I was overcome with the need to make something.

Standing in the aisle of crafty items almost had me rocking on the floor in the foetal position, I was so overcome.

I will be alone, with myself, for 8 days while the Guru is pissing off to abandoning us for enjoying his trip to Bali with his mates and this sudden realisation led to me ripping a learn to knit kit off the shelf. And then I was buying the materials to make the Toddler a home made version of Hoot the Owl.

I stopped short of purchasing a 'learn to crochet kit', and a 'learn to make lace kit'.

That seemed a bit advanced for someone who spent over an hour last night trying to work out how to do a blanket stitch. With a fully labeled diagram in front of her. Using a plastic 'learner' needle because the sensation in her fingers had been replaced by stabby pains from the 'grown up needle of steely, stabbing, pain'.

I did finish 'Hoot' but I'm mildly concerned for my future.

If a small needle and a simple stitch can bring me to the brink of insanity - I'm not sure it's safe for me to learn to knit.

Besides, what the hell am I going to do with a scarfe in Darwin? Oh, wait - I could always take it to Supré and they could sell it as a dress.

Nice.

Father's Day, The Internet and DIY

So yesterday was Father's Day. And the Toddler and I rocked it.

In terms of gifts, we may have hit a high that cannot be repeated. Because foam stubbie holders painted by your 19mth old with a photo of you and her glued on it cannot be done again. That time has passed into the pages of history.

Same as she cannot go back and re-make your rice-bubble snack bar, wrapped in yellow cellophane and put in said stubbie holder. Nor can she re-bake the 2 gingerbread man cookies decorated like 'Daddy'.

And I sure as hell won't be able to get Powderfinger concert tickets again! The lack of internet at home currently means I have to live my internet life at work. And it means I have to do all my online shopping at work. So when I went to The Darwin Entertainment Centre and they told me there were only a few tickets left, but I had to get them online I nearly broke the land speed record for a woman in high heels to get back to the office. I almost lost fingertips due to the heat generated by my frenzied typing, searching for these tickets. Flames were building and keyboards melting...I could feel other people logging on and typing until their fingers bled trying to get tickets before me...

Well, I beat them. Hehehehehehehe.....

But I have to say, the Guru earnt it all...and then some!

He finished painting the Toddlers room, hung her birth certificate and her hand and feet sculptures and her name on her walls. He also hung her new blind. The room is complete and fabulous thanks to his wonderful DIY skills.

We then proceeded to the 'building of evil', also known as Casuarina. Shopping centres aren't the Guru's most favourtie thing in the world. Parking usually brings on some serious forehead vein bulging, blood-pressure increasing, cold sweat inducing, fearsome car manoevers and car park stealing techniques that even the most hardened race car driver would need to change his jocks over.

But once that's accomplished we can swagger in and shop, safe in the knowledge that our tyre-screeching entrance to the car park is on a security tape that probably isn't even monitored.

3 Peter Morrissey shirts for the Guru, a phone cover for me and an iPod dock/radio thing for the Toddler's room later we were done. I would have happily continued but apparently it's rude to shop on a day when you're supposed to be acknowleding your own father figure.

And so we depart the car park (in another jock staining extravaganza) and head off to the Guru's parents first. Fair enough considering my Dad got called in to work and so wasn't home until later anyway.

It was all lovely and smooth sailing, and from there we head off to my parents.

Have a chat, chill out, drink coffee, laugh and then head home for dinner.

We were supposed to have Taco's.  But for some strange reason time decided to fast forward. Due to the Guru and I doing some last minute touches to the Toddler's room which we thought of on the drive home. And so, when the Toddler decided she'd been patient long enough, the clock was looked at, and looked at again in disbelief and baked beans were served. And devoured. And smeared.

A bath notice was then issued and completed, followed by 2 stories and a semi-awake toddler was placed in her bed and drifted off to noddy land.

Our evening then progressed to laundry (which I had conveniently forgotten to get done the day before, so I was now in Sunday night laundry panic) and the Guru did an evening run to Maccas. Yeah, not the most fabulous Fathers Day cuisine...but it got the job done.

And while eating dinner we decided we'd try the biggest project of our lounge room.

We decided to mount the Plasma to the wall.

And I'd like to mention that using a stud finder isn't actually as helpful as you might imagine. Particularly when yours is telling you that your studs are 3cm apart and 16 feet wide giving you the impression that you entire wall might well be made of stud. Stud finder - Fail.

But we pushed on...and drilled and bolted and bolted some more. Until at 11pm on Sunday 5 September 2010 the Guru's dream of having a wall mounted plasma screen was realised.

And I am proud to report that it was still attached to the wall this morning and I no longer have to Windex small hand prints off the glass.

Oh Father's Day - you were so productive this year that I believe I would like you to visit more often. And next time, feel free to bring a builder with you to create that second storey...

Settlement Baby, YEAH!

It's official! We now own our home! Angels are singing on high and I think there may be a meteor shower in celebration.

And thank god the banks decided to get their shit together and finalise it all. Because as exciting as painting was, I was so UN-excited with the idea that if settlement got delayed any further the vendors would pull out and we'd have to be painting everything white again and putting that evil 'For Sale' sign back in the front yard.

And so we enter the next phase of our lives. As home owners. Gardeners. Renovators. Developers. DIY'ers. Oh, I am so looking forward to rocking up to Bunnings covered in dirt/paint/wood shavings/decking oil etc and walking through looking for the 'stuff' we need. To being one of those people who I always envied at sauntering through Bunnings and getting the gear for THEIR home. The one they OWNED.

Well, kiss my grits people because we are now one of you! And while we are still refining our DIY skills, we can smash holes in walls and plant things in garden beds with the best of 'em.

But most of all I am stoked because we finally got the layout of the longe/dining area sorted. And I'm sorry - but there is no way I was going to start packing again after it's taken me a week to finally get it right.

Who knew that finding the perfect spot for the dining table would be such an exhausting task...

The rose coloured glasses are smashed in my driveway...

So it appers that moving into your new home allows you to scrutinize the external appearance a bit more than you did when you first looked. Even though you paid to have someone do a building and structural report to bring your attention to anything you might have glossed over in your enthusiasm to enter the property market. Even though you read said report and you know, deep down, that you glossed over the imprefections this stranger found.

And it would also appear that painting walls within your new home allows you to scrutinize the internal appearance a bit more. So much so, that once you have finished painting you hurry back to Bunnings to assess the cost of a new toilet suite, new shower head, new doors and handles, new curtains and/or blinds and new kitchens. Plus discussing intensely how a full bathroom renovation could be pulled off in the 24hrs before all your stuff is delivered by the removalist company.

The Guru informs me that a full bathroom renovation will absolutely not be possible in 24hrs, no matter how many 1hr makeover shows I've watched and no matter how many famous 'handy-man' type people from renovation shows I might theoretically be able to con into coming around and doing it. Because they won't apparently. Not unless one of us gets an incurable, life ending medical condition. And to be honest, a bathroom renovation isn't worth that.

So I've had to settle for painting. For now. But I have to say, the colours that have gone up are AMAZING! And can I just say, having a father-in-law who is a painter/decorator by trade is a fantastic thing to have and the paint job is A1 Professional Grade, baby!

So our bedroom has a feature wall of Taubman's 'Rumble' which is a deep purple colour. The Toddler scored a feature wall of Taubman's 'Cheeky' which is a bright, hot pink. Her other walls will be painted in Taubman's 'Celeste' which is a super, light, pale baby pink and the whole room will be a little girl's paradise! The lounge room has a feature wall of Taubman's 'Desert Spice' which is a burnt orange colour with a bit of brightness in there to make the room 'pop'. And with the poliched floor boards the lounge looks so warm and inviting that a fireplace wouldn't be out of place. Highly inappropriate and pointless given the climate here, but it would be a perfect centrepiece. I'm told that the plasma screen going up on the wall will be the perfect centrepiece.

I'm reserving my judgement...

The remainder of our walls are plain white, but we'll most likely be re-painting these with a more classic light, creamy white...but we'll have to wait and see. The Guru and I are still in negotiations.

One thing we do agree on is to get the loo and the front and back doors replaced as soon as we can. And I'm thinking the front balcony decking could do with jazzing up a bit...not to mention the polished floor borads inside. But I am genuinely thinking of trying to convince the Guru that carpet in the bedrooms would be so completely lovely. I miss carpet in the bedroom. I miss that gorgeous sinking feeling of a good quality, soft and luxurious carpet. That warm, cosy feeling that only carpet can give.

What can I say - there is a part of me that wants to have a small luxury in our home. And that's some super, sexy, luxurious, cosy carpet. Once a bedroom carpet girl, always a bedroom carpet girl.

And no, a rug is NOT the same. No matter how many times the Guru might tell me it is, it's not. End of story.

But I'd like to know - what is it about owning a property that gives you this sudden impression that you are a DIY God and can do anything and everything? Right down to plumbing!? Even though you have no idea what the idfference between a U-bend and an S-bend is, or that there is actually a tool called a Monkey Wrench and it's not just the topic of a (brilliant) Foo Fighter's song!

I'm certain the Guru will be locking up any tools and potential tools so when I'm home alone I am unable to embark on my own DIY projects. It's most likely a very sensible act that I would highly endorse. Because I seriously don't know my Monkey Wrench from my S-bend.

The tragic thing now is that if I stuff it up - we have to pay for the repairs...

And it's at this point that having a husband in the insurance business is suddenly so much more valuable than it was a week ago. Maybe I'll just stick to painting - I can see the results being far less depression-inducing than a DIY bathroom reno.

No matter how fabulous I think I could make it.