Do you think it excessive to paint nine coats on one wall? The initial four coats were painted by my decorator: the first two coats on the white plaster, in high sheen Intelligent Eggshell, clashed with the deep hue of Thai Sapphire; the finish of the second two coats in Absolute Matt harmonised with the dramatic saturated hot-blue colour, however every touch left a mark, which could not be wiped clean. After some weeks, my tolerance level of the lightly scuffed surface reached its threshold, so more tins of paint and paint rollers were purchased to attempt the task myself. Four additional coats in Intelligent Matt resulted in a richer hue, but I was unsuccessful in achieving a smooth finish with the roller. Begrudgingly, paintbrush to hand, the ninth and final coat was painted drying to a brushstroke finish, which left me satisfied much to my surprise. Alas, perfectionism is the bane of my life.
There's hardly a trace of old furnishings around our home. Of course, we didn't cross the pond eleven autumns ago with any at all. The early years could only afford me to gaze at unique pieces of fine craftsmanship in interior design magazines, whilst surrounded by self-assembled furniture purchased from a certain Swedish-founded retailer. My taste in design is simple and restrained, but fine simplicity comes at a rather dear price, to the dismay of my loving dear husband.
It is only in retrospection that I can truly appreciate the process that has procured our present. In recognising that hardship and trying times are integral to the work in progress, the climb is less arduous. I find myself taking greater care in my choices since I would rather live without, than settle for something that is not quite right, however my patience is tested every waiting period for items to be delivered. I suppose it is the additional cost of choosing pieces that are made-to-order.
Whilst I wait for the last order to arrive, which was placed in January, I carefully consider all of my options for lounge chairs and desk chairs: design, construction, comfort, fabrics, leather; and even a new desk to replace the first piece of furniture from my furniture-making days. It is the most exciting part of the process. And even more fun is, marrying treasures from our past with all of the present - creating a home that is uniquely our own.
A new-build seemed like the better choice for one who cringes at the mere thought of another human being's germs on door handles. The notion of a fixer-upper was overwhelming and paralysing. However, an obsession in interior decorating to my exact standard and taste leaves all options indiscernible. A new wall was demolished; new carpeting, new doors and new plantings were all removed and replaced. Although the kitchen-diner is functional, I have a great desire for one bespoke to my wishes. And the list continues: floor and wall tiles, sinks and taps, paving slabs, &c. The idea to gut the three-level stairwell and install one that would allow daylight from the skylight to illuminate straight through to the ground floor is one I should think to leave by the wayside. The dark-stained oak planks, which were commissioned and fitted even before we closed on the house, are enough - for now. A work in progress, it shall continue to be, is our home sweet home.