If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you may remember that we put our house up for sale a year ago. Just over a year ago, actually. I looked up the date.
There’s this wall that has been the bane of my home and my blog and my mind, I’ve brought it up for at least three years, and at last it’s done.
After painting the tester of Twilight Mist (again, whaaaaat?) on the wall in our bedroom and disregarding the opinion of my husband (spoiler, it turns out alright), I decided to go and buy a full tin and a cheap roller set from Wickes and just do it. When I say just do it, I meant for Barry to just do it, but that didn’t happen, and it didn’t paint itself, so I did it as it turns out.
This is the wall that just refuses to paint itself.
Following the slathering of a hot pink tester on our bedroom wall, in, ahem, March 2012, we’ve had to look at the crime scene every time we walked in our bedroom door. It had got to the point where we didn’t see it any more. And when I did see it one day, I painted over it in white to make it easier to cover when the whole wall was painted. There was probably a year between these two events.
Everything has halted in its tracks while viewings come and viewings go as we try to sell our house.
The tiles that I’d so lovingly chosen have gone back to Homebase (after all that!), and my sneaky sofa yearnings have had to be put on hold (we have had this one for nearly seven years and I’m pretty sure I can see an outline of our bums). Continue reading