And in other news, the Maison des Girrafes is in the process of becoming a Palazzo. The new East Wing is built, though what with one thing and another I haven’t gotten as far with the new kitchen as I’d hoped. This is the kitchen so far:
Notwithstanding inasmuch as which, wave after wave of
demented avengers wonderful Norfolk tradesmen are remodelling the house. With us living in it at the time, this resembles a game of Tetris as the Croxii and their artefacts and pets are one step ahead of the demolition and remodelling in their wake. Yesterday the old bathroom was demolished to be replaced by a new one, in part of what was once our bedroom. The bathroom is all plumbed in and useable… but only in daylight, as the electrics aren’t yet live.
Because Crox Minima’s new bedroom is under construction, and Crox Minor’s room is about to be knocked through into the (old, decommissioned) bathroom, the younger Croxii and Mrs Crox are all in our new bedroom, which is habitable but not yet decorated (or wired up), while I am on the sofa in the
furniture repository sitting room. (I haven’t yet worked out where I shall sleep when they start bashing up the sitting room. Probably in the Maison Des Girrafes Marine Biology Field Station beach hut).
The astute reader will notice from the photograph above that the washbasin in the bathroom has a non-matching pedestal.
And thereby hangs a tale.
Although the build was competitively priced (I can definitely recommend my builder) we Croxii have allowed a budget for the new kitchen and bathroom of –> £0. This means we have enjoyed seeking bargains, and practically everything has come from eBay or reclaim yards.
Ebay netted us an enormous range cooker, almost new, at a knockdown price, and a lovely bath, for not an entirely knockdown price, but hundreds of pounds cheaper than you’d find in a store. It’s a great big freestanding slipper bath with gold feet, designed to indulge Mrs Crox’s fantasies of starring in a TV commercial for a brand of particularly sickly sweet and messily exfoliative chok’lit.
The bath started with the taps – an old-fashioned gold mixer thingy that Mrs Crox picked up at a reclaim yard for £10. Having bought them, we had to have a bath to match. The same reclaim yard yielded the kitchen sink you see above (£20) and seven assorted second-hand doors, some wood-panelled, some glazed, all fun and funky, for £15 each.
A visit to another reclaim yard found some nice tiles and the washbasin with gold taps already attached (£40). We couldn’t face a secondhand WC but got that in a box from Argos, a catalogue store. I couldn’t find a pedestal for the basin … so had the cunning plan of recycling the pedestal from the current basin, which I’ll box in later. This is now #843 on my list of home carpentry jobs. So now you know.
The amazing thing about the reclaimed gold taps is that as soon as they were plumbed in, THEY WORKED. No leaks, no squeaks. Bootiful, as we say round here.
More later, as it happens.