Garden love

Images courtesy of Pinterest

'Please may we go to the garden centre?'

I never thought I would become a 'garden widow'.

When we bought our house two years ago, the 'compromise' (Phil & Kirstie insist there must always be one in any property buying scenario) was the teeny, tiny garden. Our budget was never going to stretch to a house big enough for three to become four - plus accommodate guests - and a sizeable garden. So the postage stamp lawn was overlooked for those extra bedrooms, a garage and the fact that we are situated opposite a meadow and a park.

However, never underestimate the power of Pinterest for dreaming (me) or simply having vision, a clever overview of small space and a desire to spend quite a lot of time faffing and pottering (Mr W).

When I say our garden is small, I mean tiny. Plus it's split over two levels for reasons unbeknown to me - I'm assuming it's simply how the land the developers built on was already arranged.  But Mr W has worked wonders and we seem to have gained a pretty and functional outdoor space. A 'feature' of our garden is a massive brick wall which keeps it secluded, safe and private but is at risk of looking a bit, well, 'Strangeways'. My over-active and overly optimistic imagination is attempting to model it on the walled gardens at swanky Babington House. More practically, Mr Wayne decided the top level, which was a hastily thrown together strip of lawn and pathway, would work much better as a patio. And so it does.

My parents have been staying for a few days and we have spent a lot of time outside: BBQ, brunch or simply drying the (frankly endless) washing have meant that our tiny outdoor space has really given us that 'extra room' that Phil and Kirstie also bang on about.

And as for my initial comment, I am actually pleased we have a garden that can be measured in metres and not acres. Mr W is always out there. He's developed an evening ritual of donning a gilet and his oldest trainers after work and going out to check/water/merely look at the fruits of his labour. My lovely friend, Hannah, says it's his version of 'mindfulness'. Meanwhile, I've developed a liking for 'Gardeners' World' and Monty Don and while Mr W's outside doing the practical stuff, I continue to dream and fill up my Pinterest boards...

Living in a box: an anniversary

Last Wednesday marked the one year anniversary of our move from my beloved Brighton to the new-build 'box'. My mum keeps telling me off for using 'box' pejoratively; I'm actually using it fondly! I do see our house as a big beige box, but also as a space that we've already put our mark on and a place in which we still feel excited about future projects.

I can't decide if it feels like less than a year or if it feels like we've been here for ever. I do not miss Brighton one bit. I still ADORE the city by the sea and we visit a lot (far more time is spent on the pier nowadays - grim), but we moved to make life easier. And it is.

In the spirit of one of my favourite television genres - the ubiquitous and frankly cheap countdown programme - here's my current top ten reasons why the box really is a gift (see what I've done there?...)

1. Our own path, front door, letter box and hallway. You house dwellers may snigger at how easily pleased I am, but after years of living in a flat in a converted house containing five properties, I LOVE receiving our own junk mail and not having to walk past the latest pile of random tut that's been left out by other residents.

2. A 'playroom': a rather grandiose term for the funny little room on the front of the house that even the developers didn't know how to market with a positive spin. It is home to basically all of Dexter's toys and his precious train tracks and it's Ikea storage heaven for his piles of jigsaws, games, cars, etc. The boy loves to play in there and it means his bedroom stays pretty tidy as it's just used for sleeping.

3. The kitchen: our main room on the ground floor. This is my domain - not in a 1950s sort of way, but more a 'heart of the home' way. I love having a big kitchen table to work at, dump things on and have family meals together. I was brought up in a family that valued eating together. I have been told on more than one occasion by parents of delightful students I teach that their only 'secret' to good parenting is eating (and talking) together. I am still perennially faddy when it comes to food projects, so it's not about the daily creation of gourmet feasts, but just the sitting down together. Breakfast nearly always involves all of us together at the table and it just feels right to start the day that way. The kitchen is also home to a television, radio and ancient sofa. As it's right next door to the playroom and downstairs loo, I've little need for the rest of the house until bedtime!

4. Outside space. Our garden is tiny and frankly, after the wet weather we've had, is really not looking its best. We need to start to sort it out. Regardless, with the onset of spring and its longer days and warmer temperatures, I am still not over the novelty of opening the patio doors in the kitchen onto our own little haven. Plus, the front of the house looks onto a small meadow and the children's park, so there's a lovely sense of space and green.

5. A twenty minute commute: does this need any further elaboration?

6. Three toilets: I'm not showing off. Multiple loos seem to be mandatory in any new-build, irrespective of size or budget. One on each floor is great for lazy folk like us, guests in the house and will undoubtedly be invaluable when I finally attempt full-on potty training with the boy...

7. A sense of community: people chat, folk smile, we know neighbours' names! This is nice.

8. Being slightly out in the sticks makes us more pro-active about getting out and about. We have to drive to most major places, but that does mean we are more likely to plan ahead for visits and outings. Sometimes, having Brighton on our doorstep meant that ironically, we didn't always embrace all it had to offer, or we'd walk into town and do the same old things. Here, we're more inclined to go for a walk in the forest or to a neighbouring village, particularly if there is a tearoom to be found.

9. A blank canvas: a new-build literally doesn't even have toilet roll holders (there's three to buy, remember) and so it is great fun having to think of themes, schemes and colours for each room.

10. Space for guests: whether it's just for a cuppa on the way home from work, a Friday night curry and sleepover, weekend lunch, or my entire family for a week - the quirky layout of our tall, higgledy-piggledy house comes into its own. The box is at its best when its full of family and/or friends. And that, after all, is what makes a house a home.

With tangerine trees and marmalade skies...

 

There's a bit of an orange thing going on in 'the box'. I am putting this down to being a child of the seventies. I guess you could say I've got an orange crush; I'm definitely sweet on it...

 

Back to school

I am writing this post on Saturday night. It's late. It's been a gloriously sunny and Spring-like day - incongruous in the depths of Winter. We've done very little today: some chores; a tantrum-filled trot to the park across the road, and I have had my weekly, self-indulgent hour astride a horse, so the buttocks have been toned and the soul nourished. I love weekends; I also love the week.

Whilst the Christmas holiday was a glorious, sparkly, bauble-shaped full-stop in the chaos of real life, I was totally cool with Monday 6th January 2014 rocking up and marking a distinct end to festive frivolity. Don't get me wrong, I HATE getting up early; I LOVE being asleep. Always have, always will. My alarm goes off at a frankly inhumane 6am. I am Queen Reluctant of Inertia-Ville when it comes to physically getting out of bed, but once I'm up, and I've had a cup of tea, I'm okay.

It's bloomin' dark at the moment at 6am, and cold, but I think there's something bear-like and cosy about emerging from a collective slumber and gently stepping into the day via dressing gowns, caffeine and subdued lighting. Or maybe I've simply overdosed on the John Lewis Christmas advert 'bear and hare' advert in the last few weeks.

Like the bear, I'm a creature of habit and routine. I am incredibly fortunate that I really like my job. It was genuinely lovely to see my students again on Monday; by Friday, it was genuinely lovely to think we'd all have two days away from each other. But I think that is what I love about routine: that it's reassuring and comforting - it makes me feel safe. But also, any break from it in the form of weekends and holidays feels special and different, and full of possibility. If only for a short while...

And it also represents the turning off of the 6am alarm.

Below is Monday morning in really grainy, really poorly lit and edited and really unprepared phone pictures.

Usually in the week, I have to wake Dexter up; he's got the Wayne sleep gene. Post-Christmas, playing with his trains seems to be a new and unhelpfully distracting part of his morning routine.

We always try to chip away at the chores, even at such an early hour. Usually, the washing machine goes on or the dishwasher gets emptied.

I'm Northern; it's life blood.

It really helps if it's overly-priced, reet tasty tea. I put the oven timer on for a 3 minute brew. I am aware I may be mildly obsessive

I aspire to have a morning around the kitchen table that resembles the sunny optimism of a breakfast cereal advert. We're more chimps' tea party. Those tiny hands are shovelling satsumas into his tiny gob. We have to limit the citrus to no more than three per day; the nappies are, well...

I love Radio 2 in the morning. I love listening to Chris Evans. He has the unique ability to be relentlessly, overtly positive without making me want to punch him in the face.

Yep, this is what Mr Wayne wakes up to every morning. Lucky man.

I HATE GETTING OUT OF IT! Did I mention that?

Nursery car park. Radio on, marking some essays and generally ignoring child. Working mummy skillz.

Nursery car park: child wondering why he is being ignored. Working mummy skillz.

Disclaimer: by mid-January, I will be blogging about how exhausted I am, how I hate my job and how the daily grind is really getting me down. Probably.

Christmas: the Wayne way.

 

Christmas Eve with lovely friends and mince pies a-plenty.

Lovely friends' lovely playroom: trains have been a definite theme this festive tide.

As we were hosting this year, 'the box' had to look pretty, including for Christmas Day breakfast. Beautiful hand-made runner and napkins courtesy of my talented friend, Jo.

I've been big on twinkly light and festive smells this year.

Christmas Day always starts with: 'Has he been?!'

More trains. More tracks.

Who knew the gift of a pony-print onesie would be so gratefully received?

More great transport-themed gifts, courtesy of one of Dexter's best friends: Becka.

My 6pm rule goes out of the window in the Christmas holidays: fizz for breakfast!

It was lovely for Dexter to have quality time with his grandparents.

I cooked. I prepped for DAYS. It was bloody good. *takes a bow*

Best clothes and party hats for Christmas dinner!

There were five types of veg: daily recommendation in one meal.

'Selfie': word of the year in 2013.

Boxing Day brought beautiful blue skies after a number of wild storms.

Boxing Day also brought Dexter's other set of grandparents and Christmas dinner, part deux.

Their gift was this fab teepee. Dexter's favourite new thing is to snuggle in there with plenty of cushions and the iPad with 'Peppa Pig' on loop. Home cinema, toddler style.

 

His uncle and aunt gave Dexter this magnificent pirate ship. The weather for most of the holidays has been as wet, windy and choppy as a pirate-infested ocean, but aside from the odd bout of cabin fever, we've all had a blast. Hope you did too.

Happy New Year!

Naturally Festive

We took a walk in Ashdown Forest on Saturday afternoon. A huge advantage of living in 'the box' is the forest is on our doorstep. It was bright, it was crisp, and it held some subtle reminders that Christmas is just around the corner and I need to get going with the preparations...

 

Cheers for the heads up, Mother Nature!

 

 

Work space

 

This is where I spend four days a week. I am incredibly lucky; I love my job as a secondary school English teacher. This year, I feel even more fortunate. For the first time in my thirteen and a bit years of teaching, I have a day off. It falls on a Wednesday, so it's a total luxury to work for two days at a time. We don't know how long this will work for both the school's timetable and our finances, but for now, I'm loving it!

 

I get to spend more time with my boy and a much better sense of work-life balance. It is also allowing me the time and head space to be a little more self-indulgent, hence falling back in love with blogging.

 

Perhaps I'm getting ideas above my station, but I'm craving a real workspace of my own. My classroom workspace is a semi-organised and yet slightly cluttered place of technology, too many wires and the obvious need to have functional notice boards, displays and classroom equipment. I'm considering giving it a makeover which naturally, I'll document on here.

 

We're really lucky to have a room to call a study in 'the box'. It's the fourth bedroom and very much a 'box room'. Mr W is the techy expert in this house so the study is his territory, especially as he works from home once a week. Don't get me wrong, I like what we've done with the space. The French Tintin prints are a new addition and a sweet link with the vintage comics in Dexter's playroom. I love the Bisley orange filing cabinet; it's a zingy twist on traditional office grey.

 

 

 

 

 

I just can't help thinking I'd like to work somewhere prettier and hence have a whole board on Pinterest dedicated to my workspace dreams.

 

1. petitevanou

2. The Glitter Guide

3. Marcy Penner

 

The reality is, there isn't room in 'the box' for me to have my own study. I may have to be creative with commandeering a corner of my own, even if it's just an attractive mood board tucked away. In the meantime, I could always dream big and dream pretty in my classroom...