And so it begins…

And so it begins, my first dabble into the world of Builders, the start of 6 weeks (I’m a realist, I know I should add at least 2 weeks to that deadline) of mud and noise and dust and more decisions. I’m excited and nervous in equal measure…what if by the end of all this it isn’t what I dreamt of? What if it doesn’t answer the issues I have with our home, it’s a lot of money to gamble, did we maybe throw ourselves in too quickly?
So many questions, but it’s a bit late for that now!

I need to learn the politics of having Builders in. How often should you offer them a cuppa? Will I ever remember all the varying orders, I swear they change the number of sugars they want as the day goes on. How kind and generous should I be in the beginning? Is it maintainable for the duration, I don’t want to appear overly attentive, too generous and create an expectation of waitress service, but equally maybe if I serve them the good biscuits they’ll come back tomorrow even if it’s a bit windy or the mizzle sets in (for those that aren’t from Cornwall mizzle is that light, fine, everywhere rain, a cross between mist and drizzle to be exact).
Do I start with branded biscuits and slowly decline into own brand, maybe a box of broken bikkies from the Poundshop…am I being judged on my biscuit quality?! This is a serious business!


It would seem good progress is being made and the start of the footings really helps give a sense of scale and perspective. We’re definitely sacrificing a fair whack of garden for this, but I think once we start on rearranging/ landscaping we can claw back almost what we have given by making better use of overgrown beds, dead corners and I really don’t think we need 3 large wood stores, but I’ll save that conversation for when Stu isn’t feeling quite so shell shocked.

This is all so new and exciting and worrying and surreal, then I turn on the news or log onto Facebook and I’m thrown straight back into the terrible reality of now, a country falling apart, a very uncertain future, little cause for hope and this small muddy hole in the ground seems so silly and unimportant. But I also remember that life goes on, we will all carry on with daily chores and routines and plans, but this doesn’t mean we care any less, it’s just life. As long as we keep the conversations open, keep on declaring our disappointment, keep informing ourselves of the facts, as hard as they are to distinguish from lies, then it’s ok for good things to happen, I don’t need to feel guilty.
I want us to build this Country back up from the ruins of the past week, regain the trust of those that have been hurt through recent shocking decisions, to find my own trust, but for now I will build a little place in my garden for my family and be thankful for that.

Now, where are those good biscuits?….


No matter what I still have you, we are safe tonight, we do not fear imminent war, we are not in physical danger unlike so many others. I will fight my best to bring you up in a world I can be proud of, but for now we have each other, we will be each other’s world ❤

4 Comments Add yours

  1. Jane Wheeler says:

    Eeek ! Mind the ‘She’ shed !
    I’m empathising with you Alice as I currently have 3 (very good) french electricians running all over the house doing a complete re-wire. I have 400 year old stone dust, amongst other dust, falling around me, over me, into and over everything. The French way of things is an 8am start, work full on until noon when a one and half hour lunch beckons and then work full on until 5pm. No coffee, tea, sugar or biscuit dilemmas,I kind of miss the biscuits though !
    Bonne Courage XX

    1. Sounds exciting and scary all in one Janie! Hope you took some before pics 😊😘

  2. Get out the medium-priced biccies I say! 🙌🏻

    1. Hahaha!

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