My Garden ~ a Kiwi's take on life

"I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills," William Wordsworth

This old house

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When we moved into this old house about nine years ago it hadn’t been lived in for about 18 months.  It’s a house long ago relocated from town and transported onto our rural property. Rats and mice came and went courtesy of either a hole in the pantry ceiling or gaps around drain-pipes under the kitchen bench. The ancient wall-oven cooked at one temperature. The extractor fan above the hob vented illegally into the ceiling. Brown tatty curtains, brown painted skirting and scotia boards, brown aluminium window frames (replacing the original timber frames). The roof leaked. Why buy this place?  Lovely area.  Location of the land. Look out on native trees, not houses. Lots of space for gardening.

Two years ago we painted the upstairs bedrooms and bathroom. Blue was the main colour. Redecorating went into recess while our son and his family took up residence with us for a while. Before that, the kitchen and walk-in pantry make-over had been a major project.  Rats = 0. Humans = 1.

I’ve sewed thermal-drape curtains for all the windows – I don’t sew willingly but it was more economical to do it myself. There’s the lounge to finish. We finally got a new fire-box installed at the end of July. A major storm earlier meant the installer wasn’t able to get to work as planned before the onset of last winter. Himself’s work on filling holes in the roofing iron before having it painted paid dividends during the storm. Only one leak to trace. It may be because the high winds sleeted the rain sideways at our house. The downstairs bathroom needs rejuvenation (so will our bank balance). And then there’s the stairwell. We’re not looking forward to the high ceiling.

But, we simply must complete what we started. Now, the dining area is being transformed from pink to soft yellow. Our intention is to have the same soft yellow on the walls throughout the house.

I must confess on this occasion to vowing, as I perched on the ladder and wielded the paint-brush, it’s the last time I’ll live in an old house. The houses we’ve owned have been progressively older. Himself and I have developed great handy(wo)man skills over the years. We each grew up in big old houses. Our parents in their time worked hard to maintain their homes. New next time. All the work done – by someone else.

Author: Jenny

A few years ago when I began blogging, I was in awe of the creative, the witty, the informative, the insightful posts by writers on WordPress. I was challenged by my son to write, to set up a blog, to expand my garden diary scribblings. Never did I think from scratching and grubbing in my garden dirt would sprout words of reflection, thoughts about life lived as I know it. My garden is where I lose myself, or as Himself likes to tell others, I lose either my coffee mug or wine glass. Well at least I do put them on a gatepost so they are easily found. Always, there's something to write or chat about life lived as I know it. I have a certain sense of amazement that my blogging community is expanding. In a previous life, I once was a teacher. A four-walled classroom is an artificial construct. When thirty or so teenagers with diverse learning needs filled the space, the more I listened, the more I observed my students, the more I learned. They had stories to tell, to write of things that interested them. Luckily for me we embarked on amazing journeys of discovery and learned together. Some say a lifestyle block is a no-lifestyle block. We like being able to grow seasonal food, to enjoy fresh air and open space. Himself and I thought we had retired, about to define this older stage of our life together, but family commitments continue. And so it another phase of discovery happens as I share this place with Himself, son and grandsons and a menagerie of living creatures who rule the roost.

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