Japandi Bedroom Makeover

 

Do you want a break from politics and British summer weather? Read on...

“Another mural? Are you pulling my leg?”

Colin was back last month to decorate our master bedroom. I was quite fond of the Laura Ashley Iris wallpaper that was here when we moved in almost six years ago but Paul disliked it and it was his decision to finally get the room redecorated. On a whim I ordered a Japanese style mural back in February and have since discovered that Japandi (a fusion of Japanese and Scandinavian) is very much the thing right now.

before - with Laura Ashley wallpaper

In preparation we took the oversized pelmet and full length curtains down and the room instantly felt lighter and more spacious. I am tempted to just keep the Roman blinds in the bay window without curtains but even with blackout lining they don't completely keep the room in darkness when we are sleeping. Just not sure what to do with the window dressing yet. The original wardrobes were boxed in and the natural wood colour goes well with the mural. I am pleased I took a stand against getting them painted or replaced. 

A low level wooden platform bed would definitely be in keeping with the Japandi trend but then I think about bruised shins on the edge of the bed and low level is probably not wise at my age.  How about a slatted headboard then?  Nope, too much dust would collect.

So at the moment it's looking very minimalist and fresh. Not everyone's cup of tea but I'm very pleased with the result. Rick's old bed has been banished from the room and he now happily sleeps on a futon like rug. Perhaps I should buy Paul a kimono.

Pots

We only called in to the supermarket to buy some bread but I couldn't resist adding the tiny, pathetic potted Acer into my shopping trolley when I saw it shivering in the wind outside the store.  "I thought we said we weren't going to buy anymore pot plants," Paul admonished me.

Our terrace runs the whole length of the bungalow.  When we first arrived six years ago it was completely overgrown but once we had pulled out all the weeds we were left with a huge, stark expanse of stone slabs.  I asked Paul to remove some of the slabs to break up the hard surface but the ground was solid underneath and it was difficult to plant the ornamental grasses we had bought.  And so began my quest to have potted shrubs in various groups across the terrace.

In France our courtyard was filled with pots of brightly coloured geranium and lavender that looked stunning against the honey coloured stone of the property.  Here in Lincolnshire I wanted a more subdued palette using architectural plants.  My choice of plants has been limited due to the cool climate on the east coast but the spikey Cordylines and lush Fatsia Japonica plants have done well.  The terrace faces south so we have to be careful that the hostas and ferns don't get too much bright sunshine.  The Callistemon (Bottle Brush plant) comes into the garden room during the winter and many of the less hardy plants get moved into the garage so the pots have to be of a size that Paul can manhandle.  I would love to have giant Ali Baba pots but I get a stern "No!"

I went outside between showers this morning to take some pics...

baby fern needs a new pot

parsley and chives

tiny acer almost invisible in front of the hostas

Rick hiding in the bamboo

Another sunny day, another ride

No punctures this morning and we had a uneventful 34 km ride out through the Lincolnshire countryside.  After all that exercise I felt it was okay to stretch out on my sun lounger and reward myself with an ice cold gin and tonic and a few nibbles.  

Bike Ride

 

It was a beautiful morning when I took Rick out for his walk, still a bit misty with the sun just starting to break through. I planned to go for a leisurely bike ride after giving Rick his breakfast and Paul said he would cut his gym ride short and come with me.  I felt quite energetic as we set off and managed to get a personal best time climbing the steep Ahoy There! Hill out of the village. I did it in 55 seconds (Kat does it in 30!).

The cycling felt more like pleasure than exercise, although we had to to be careful to dodge potholes and loose gravel. It was still early so there wasn't much traffic about. Plenty of birdsong and crazy pheasants running around; we saw two hares in a field, they must have been mature males going by the size of them.  All was going well until, about 13 kms into the ride just north of Brandy Wharf, Paul got a puncture. “No problem,” he said, “I've got a spare tube with me.” But unfortunately he had forgotten his bicycle pump so that most definitely was a problem. 

missing bicycle pump

I left Paul at the roadside while I continued the ride towards home alone, another 13 kms or so, to collect the car so I could return and rescue him. Rick was delighted to see me so I decided to put him in his crate so that he could come for a ride in the car. It was only as I approached Brandy Wharf that I realised there wouldn't be enough room in the back of the car for both the bike and the crate!

No matter, the crate is collapsible and Rick was more than happy to sit in the footwell at the front of the car on the return journey. What a palaver!

Spring

This spell of cold weather is getting tiresome; a blast of Arctic air streaming from the north down the east coast has created bitterly cold conditions.  I am still wrapped up in winter gear when I take Rick out for his early morning walk and I just feel so sorry for the young lambs huddled up against their mums in the sheep field.  Still, we always knew that Lincolnshire was not going to be a tropical paradise when we moved here and, some consolation, I see that it's just as cold in the French Perigord this week.

Paul is having to cover all the Hostas and wrap things up in the greenhouse at night.  Tender new growth on the Fatsia Japonica has been burnt by the late frosts but there is abundant blossom on the apple trees so it looks like we shall have a bumper crop of apples later this year.

Wishing for some warm, dry weather so we can sit outside and enjoy the garden.

Nothing goes to waste

I had quite a lot of fabric left over from the re-covered chair (I ordered extra to allow for any mistakes!) so I decided to make a couple of cushions.  The zip fastenings were tricky but I was quite pleased with the result.

They are destined for the master bedroom that is getting a makeover in June.

After a glorious sunny morning the clouds have rolled in.  Hot cross buns and a cup of tea are being served as an antidote to this chilly, gloomy afternoon.

Lark or an Owl

 Are you a lark or an owl?  Up at dawn and early to bed or a late riser but still lively at night?

I am most definitely a lark.  Full of energy in the morning but flagging by mid afternoon and ready for bed at 10.00 p.m or earlier.  This morning I got up just after 6.00 and had cereal and a cup of tea, then out for Rick's morning walk around the village.  It was blissfully quiet apart from the dawn chorus (lots of blackbirds around here) and I didn't meet any other dog walkers today.

Back home I stripped the bed and put a load of washing on.  No rain forecast so I might get the sheets dry outside.  Then I boiled up a litre of milk and made a batch of yoghurt, I let the jars sit in the incubator for about 7 hours or so.  I love natural unsweetened yoghurt and this is so easy to make.  Then I chopped a whole load of bacon, onions, mushrooms and beef to go in the slow cooker for a Boeuf Bourguignon.  In France this would be typically served with a green salad and French fries but my English tribe prefer it with mashed potato and veg.  Whichever way it's a favourite in this household and the slow cooker ensures that the meat is always succulent with a rich and tasty sauce.

dinner bubbling away in the slow cooker

yoghurt doing its thing

By the time I had finished cooking the washing was ready to hang and it was coffee time.  Now what am I going to do for the rest of the day apart from write this blog?  Ah, just remembered.  I have a Dyson upright cleaner to re-assemble.  I took it apart yesterday to wash the filters and de-tangle the brush head.  I always have to get the handbook out to figure out where the filters are hiding, hate this task.

laundry day

By lunch time I shall be running out of steam.  Early afternoon I will do some core exercises for half an hour and then it will be time to sit down and relax with a book or watch some television and Rick will see that as a signal to jump on my lap for cuddles.  It also gives him a clear view of the driveway and he can look out for the postman.  What is it about a red post van that turns this mild mannered dog into a barking lunatic?  Never a dull moment!  (Rick is also a lark and likes to go to bed early).

Rick waiting for the postman

Yesterday

It was Mother's Day yesterday, or Mothering Sunday as some call it and originates from when women in service (maids and servants working in big houses) were released for the day to return home to visit their mother.  The day always conjures up mixed feelings for me because I had a difficult relationship with my mother and was estranged from her before she died.  

Anyway, I have always told my daughters not to make a fuss or waste their money on over priced bouquets for me.  Yesterday Sarah invited me over to the cottage for lunch and gave me chocolates and a card and we had a jolly time feasting around a magnificent 'grazing table'.  Rick thought it was wonderful.

 

Kat posted a card to me on Monday and was most upset that it hadn't arrived.  That may have something to do with the fact she had put an out of date stamp on the envelope. She doesn't use the mail very often!  Never mind Kat, it's the thought that counts.

putting my feet up after lunch

A leopard in the room

 

After a week of crawling around the floor and hammering in upholstery tacks (staples would have been easier but I like to do it the traditional way) the chair is finished.  

I think I'm getting too old for this lark.  Maybe I should take up knitting.

Work in progress

 

I spent a couple of hours scrabbling around the floor this morning getting to grips with re-covering the chair. Even with a cushion to kneel on it was tough on my knees and back. Getting the fabric to fit around the wooden arms was fraught with danger, one snip with the scissors too far and the whole thing would have been ruined. Constant stretching of the fabric, trying to get an even tension and checking that everything was straight was time consuming but I tried not to rush, I was just very relieved when that part of the process was finished.

The next stage will be the back of the chair, and then the front, and then I need to visit the haberdashery shop in our local town to try and find some trim to cover the tacks and give the chair a smart finish. Hopefully all completed in about a week.

Project

It's time for my next project.  I always like to have some sort of project in the pipeline although this does make Paul slightly nervous;  I can't fathom why.

About ten years ago we both did a course together - upholstery.  We bought a couple of tatty antique chairs from a local auction, lugged them along to the course centre once a week where we were shown how to strip them back, restore and re-cover them.  The chairs needed new springs and webbing and the horsehair stuffing was carefully washed (in a pillowcase in the washing machine) and re-used. It was back breaking work but we were quite proud of the finished items and they fitted in nicely with our rustic farmhouse in France.  

the old chair was in a terrible state

new replacement webbing and springs 

finished chair in our French home

At the moment one chair is in the attic and the other one is situated in the hallway by the front door.  It still looks very smart but ..... the fabric is a bit boring.   I feel it needs jazzing up a bit to fit in with my more contemporary home.  Time for me to gather my tools and re-cover it!

hammer has magnetic end to hold tack

essential tools

Stripping the fabric has been tricky, I had previously hammered those tacks in too well!  I have a tool for levering them out but you have to be really careful not to damage the wood.  I also need to keep the fabric pieces whole so that I can use them as templates for the new fabric.  Did I mention the new fabric?  Animal print of course!

Night Shift

Just as we finished our coffee break yesterday morning we received an SOS call from Sarah.  Could we pick her up from work and drive her home.  After a 15 hour night shift she was too tired to drive safely.

Sarah is still employed by her Sydney company and normally works regular British time office hours but occasionally, during conference events, she is required to work Australian hours and long shifts.  It is not feasible for her to work from home because of the amount of kit she uses for video editing but I always feel a bit nervous about her working in an empty building on her own all night and we have always said that we would taxi her home if she felt it wasn't safe to drive in the morning.  These events happen about three times a year and I'm always relieved when they're over.

Some people work night shifts on a permanent basis and adapt well to the lifestyle.   They might choose to do these unsocial hours because it fits in well with childcare or perhaps they need the extra bonus that these shifts attract.  Personally, I have worked a few night shifts in my lifetime and I absolutely hated them.  I can sleep all day and still feel like a zombie at night.  As student nurses we had no choice, night shifts were part of our rotation.  If it was a quiet shift we struggled to stay awake and keep watch while our patients slept - a busy night was so much easier.  What I really dreaded was being sent to fetch blood packs from the deserted laboratory in the middle of the night, it was just so spooky.  Or walking past the morgue to get to the canteen for the plate of greasy egg and chips that was served up for night workers.

I am so grateful that I can now go to bed when I choose and sleep all night.  

Safari

When Sarah moved out to her cottage I decided it was time to decorate her bedroom.  The wallpaper was quite a pretty ribbon stripe but was quite old and dated so it had to go but I really didn't have any ideas what to replace it with.

before

In the end I decided that the bed headboard would be the focal point of the room and was rather taken with a Safari printed fabric.  I bought two metres of fabric, got my sewing machine out, made a couple of seams and re-covered the headboard.  

It seemed to take days to scrape away the old wallpaper and wash the walls down but finally the walls were ready for two coats of Timeless white paint.  I trimmed the existing Roman blind with a thin strip of the Safari fabric.

The room looked fresh and the headboard was quite striking but the wall looked a bit bare.  I couldn't help myself when I found giraffe and zebra carved wooden 'heads' online, I just had to buy them.  They are wonderfully kitsch and fill the empty space perfectly!

Saturday

 "You'd better take Rick out before the rain gets here" I told Paul after breakfast.

"It's not going to rain, the man on the forecast has just said it's going to be fine all day."

"The local forecast on my computer says it's going to rain."

"The weather forecaster has just said it's going to be dry."

As it was going to be dry and not too cold I made the decision to dust off my road bike and ride outside instead of riding with Bernie the Bot in the gym.  Paul volunteered to come with me.

It was colder than I expected.  After a few kilometres a fine mist started to fall.  Then it started to rain.  We cycled 17 kms in the freezing rain.  My goggles were steamed up and rain was dripping off my helmet and nose.  I should have listened to my own counsel.

It's Saturday evening.  TV dinner and wine.  Rick has his Kong (pet toy with treats). We used to watch Gladiators when the children were young, they loved it.  A new series has just begun.  Contenders ready?  Gladiators ready?  Rick loves it.  That travelator gets them every time.  Now for the Netflix film and another glass of wine.  I love Saturdays.

Boring Old Farts

 

Today is the monthly lunch gathering at the community hall of our neighbouring village where you can get a home cooked two course meal for £6.00 each. A lot of our friends go every month and when I mooted the idea of going with Paul we decided that, no, it wasn't our thing. “Surely it's for old people?”. That's the problem, we are old but in our minds we're still youngsters. We missed out on jam roly-poly today.

Instead we had tomato and chorizo pasta with a glass of wine and watched Bargain Hunt.

A couple of weeks ago we had tickets to see ABBA The Voyage at the London Arena, it was a birthday treat for me. We tried to pre-book train tickets to London but nothing was available. It soon became apparent that the strikes were going to be on during this period, mainline and underground. We didn't fancy driving there or travelling by coach so eventually we said “Let's call the whole thing off.” We managed to sell the tickets and get most of our money back. We really are just a couple of boring old farts,

I spent my birthday with Sarah and Paul at her cottage where Paul cooked up a splendid meal (Chicken Liver Pate, Duck Breast with Redcurrant Sauce, a selection of cheeses including Lincolnshire Poacher and vintage port and the odd glass or two of wine.) I just enjoy the simple pleasures of life – feed me and I'm happy!

Rick with all his toys that he gathers on his sheepskin rug

Spring and the Great Flood

There is an abundance of snowdrops in the village this year, swathes of pretty white flowers in gardens and growing wild along the grassy banks.  Early daffodils are in flower along Seggimore Beck bringing a real hint of Spring.  

Paul did some work in the garden yesterday, he met this shy little chap in the compost heap.

compost mouse

Last night I watched a documentary about the Great Flood of 1953.  At the end of January a terrible storm hit the British Isles, the Netherlands and Belgium.  One of the first casualties was a ferry, the MV Princess Victoria, that sunk just east of Belfast; 135 passengers drowned.  Many fishing trawlers also sunk. The storm then travelled down the North Sea creating a massive tidal surge hitting the east coast of England - Lincolnshire, Norfolk, Suffolk and Essex.  On Canvey Island in Essex many people were living in post war prefabs - flimsy wooden bungalows.  The storm surge hit them at night,  they had no warning and many lives were lost as the sea swept in.  Even if they managed to climb onto the roof of their homes many succumbed to exposure before they could be rescued.  In total 307 people died on the east coast, 1,836 in the Netherlands.

This storm happened just three years before I was born but I had no knowledge of this terrible event until I saw the documentary.  The footage was both chilling and poignant as survivors and witnesses to this flood recounted their experiences.