Saturday, 17 August 2013
All these fancy US bloggers, with their walk-in pantries, front porches the size of my living room, and mud rooms to leave their wet gear in. I'm quite jealous of course, and we're doing one home improvement after another to try to contain the clutter and get this house suitable for visitors without a week's notice. Hence my lovely vintage wardrobe bought and delivered yesterday from Oxfam Home, costing 95e total (1950s triple wardrobe). Hence the ongoing war on the understairs area. Hence the sackfuls of books that have no home yet and are in danger of being stacked in the landing.
So the mud room was something I have been thinking about for a while. We have carpet in the hall, and I'm repulsed by rugs on top of carpets, so a mud room is the best option for keeping our carpet only mildly ghastly in the winter months. Somewhere to hang wet jackets and leave them drip dry. Somewhere to kick off wet/muddy shoes so you don't traipse it all through the house. This may seem rudimentary to some, but it is revelatory to me!
We have an enclosed porch, probably less than 2foot by 4foot. I feel like I know it well, seeing as how I spent an afternoon there, tandem feeding and eating doughnuts there when locked out with a 3 year old and a new baby. Bless the neighbours, I stoically refused all offers of asylum, and waited it out. Think it was less than an hour but still, raining without, tantrum-avoiding within, it was a barrel of laughs.
Apart from the annual "hang shop bought cobwebs over the real ones" Halloween malarkey, the porch and I don't have much time together. So today's little project was bonding. I had a pack of two new hooks waiting for the last few years at the back of a cupboard, I reefed a loose hook from the back porch (don't get all excited, it's literally a doorway between back toilet and garden door- unloveable) and got screwing. The white unit was an Ikea impulse buy, turned on its side. The two larger plants are avocado stones that I experimented with, and have been surprised at the result. The smallest plant is a rescued violet from the broccoli bed. The hanging girl is a key holder from a charity shop. Menorca. I'd love to try a social experiment and hang my house keys there to see how long before someone gave it a shot. But I won't. Cut to thief opening front door stealthily, to find me breastfeeding on the stairs. "I've been expecting you".
Jaysus, I only wanted to show you the porch! I'll stop rambling and let you get back to surfing blogs, or whatever deviance you get up to on tinternet.