Old room, new room

Since the day Andy and I moved into the cottage over four years ago, the front room has been a dumping ground for removal boxes. The boxes have shifted about a bit, more added and some of them even unpacked, though not until much later. Boxes, especially when sealed for some time, can be memory sinks and I avoided them for the first couple of years.

When Joe moved in last year,  we tidied it up a bit, so that he had space for his computer and model collection. But last month we tackled it properly. First we went through the attic and sorted that out. We had a jolly good clear out.

 

Eight boxes of books and many boxes of odds and ends went to charity shops. My record collection, which I've had since I was sixteen, is sacrosanct and not going anywhere.

 

Although just to get it out of the way, it now lives under the stairs. All of the boxes were sorted through, and many things went in the attic to be dealt with another time.

Then the other week at the local auction, we picked up this battered old bureau for almost nothing. Nobody wanted it and I paid the ridiculous price of £11 for it. We had no idea where it would go, but we did save it from the skip.

Brian-next-door helped me get it home the next day, in his trailer.

And then it found its way into the newly tidy front room. You can actually see the nice little fireplace now and I have a work bench almost ready for action. (I have several old sewing machines and some old filing drawers to tidy up, but that's another story).

Like the rest of the cottage, the walls are still in the parlous state they were when Andy died, after we'd stripped them down ready for renovation. There's no money to do anything with them at the moment,and the electrics need doing anyway. So they have to stay 'interesting' and 'rustic'. But we don't mind. It's home.

If I'm not around much, it's not necessarily because there is anything wrong. I'm still in the process of rebuilding my life and healing from the carnage of the last few years; working out what happens next, especially with my career. Whether Joe and I are able to stay here is still very much moot point, but at least we finally have an almost respectable front room - even if it is a little scruffy and eccentric by ordinary standards.

Birthdays and bears

Well, that's been a bit of a hefty blog break. Busy times. Sometime last month I had a birthday, and as some people may know, I am not a huge fan of birthdays. But there was a beautiful card from Joe, who also ordered a fabulous Clangers cake - and they spelled my name correctly, which is always nice! Yes, I adore the Clangers.

 

He bought me far too many presents, including some CDs of my favourite noisy bands, and a colouring book...which sadly I have not had time to play with yet.

Although I have made time to get on with my own painting.

Last weekend was my two day trip to Oxford, where I held my bear making workshop in the Willows, at Hill End Nature Centre, a truly delightful work space with lots of light and room.

 

I had nine attendees, four of whom were returns from previous workshops and it was lovely to see them again. It was a very busy, friendly session, and if you want an outside view, there is a lovely blog post about it on 'Tales from the Weekday Home'.

It is always nice to get to the end of the day and see the more-or-less finished results.

Apart from that, we have been trying to straighten things out at the cottage. I am still only half unpacked since moving in three and a half years ago.  It was all a bit too much with everything that happened subsequently, and I've been quite happy or rather, resigned, to live like this. But things are changing and this dumping room needed sorting. 

It's actually tidy compared to how it was. We've gone through boxes and boxes of stuff, put various things into lots for auction, charity and attic storage. Sometimes it was particularly painful, but it had to be done as life is starting to settle down and there is a lot more which needs sorting out. One can only live in carnage for so long.

 

Bodge Cottage heroes

 

When we bought the cottage a year ago, we hadn't anticipated a renovation job. but once we uncovered all kinds of nasties, that is what it turned into. Losing Andy in January made the prospect of turning it into a liveable (and sadly, maybe saleable)  condition seemed overwhelming. The last thing I could think about was DIY.  But in this, the most terrible year of my life, I have been blessed with the support of so many good friends and this month I had two batches of visitors to help me wrestle little Bodge Cottage into something habitable. First, Adam and Helen, old and dear work colleagues of Andy's (and mine, too). We stripped, sanded and heat blasted my bedroom until it was down the the bare bones. Now I just have to try my hand at plastering the walls.

After the weekend, two more friends arrived and the Bodge Cottage torch was handed on, over a cup of tea. Jackelien and Herbert, all the way from Holland and taking time out of their Shropshire holiday to help me out. Jackelien and I met last year when she had a one-to-one needle felt workshop with me and from the start, we clicked, as if we'd been waiting for each other. Funny how that can happen sometimes.

  

The biggest structural job, something I could not do alone and certainly could not afford to hire anyone else to do, was removing the stud wall from under the stairs, to open up the room and provide space for a book case. Or something. But probably a book case.   Herbert assessed the situation and whether he could remove most of the stud wall without bringing the house down.

Work commenced, peeling back the add-ons from the last several decades.  Jackelien discovered the original tongue and groove partition underneath layers of wallpaper. It has a weathered, distressed surface which I am going to smooth down and wax. It's too beautiful to cover up.

 

 

The old plaster and lathe under the stairs was damp and rotten. I had a hand in taking it down, which was strangely satisfying. (The cottage isn't listed or even 'that' old, so this was legal).

 

Then a new piece of plaster board was cut to size and once Herbert had reinforced the struts under the stairs, it was put into place.

 

On another wall, an original oak beam was uncovered, which is going to stay exposed, even when the room is eventually re-plastered.

There were the remains of an old mouse nest in the little gap to the right and I think I'll leave that open too. Put a little 'bibelot' in it as a point of interest. 

 

It was amazing to see the space just as I'd imagined it - and where there were gaps, some of the discarded boards were used to neaten it up, to keep the original character.

Even down to the trimmings on the edge. It's just perfect.

  

And as if that wasn't enough, they tackled the grotty old dog kennels, removing the grim caging and opening up the garden by taking down the trellis. (I was not totally lazy in this operation, but a creamy chicken casserole had to be made...)

So I was able to stack my winter logs, safe from the rain. I don't know how I would have survived this heart breaking year without my many wonderful friends around the world to help and support me in so many ways. Actually, I don't think I would have done.  Thank God for friendship.