The final frontier

hi* – (*yep all lower case and meek AF as she shuffles red faced back onto her own blog two years later) Anyone there? Nobody? Can’t say I blame you. It’s been, let’s be kind here, a while. This, and the, world is an entirely different one in the few short years its been since I last popped up. Donald Trump is President. I am in my ‘40’s. There are – news just in – no more male white rhinos and yes I know, no-one uses Facebook anymore. But, BUT! bear with me, consider this my last hurrah. In my defence, me, we, life has been busy. When I started this blog, I had two babies, a new-born and a toddler. We were newlyweds full of dreams and idylls about building our dream house, Jesus the notions. I believe I used to bang on about islands, and day beds and walk in wardrobes. Ha, I pity the fool. That was me before we really started trying to build this house. That was also me before I had three kids.

Ah yes, small update. Literally. We went and made another baby. I know I know, but do bear with me: he’s a really good one. Like really good. He firstly is a he, which on reflection is a great thing as it means Daragh while still outnumbered, still at least has some flesh in the game and is not doomed to some reverse handmaid’s tale existence. Also for the Brucie bonus (see he’s dead as well, a changed world I tell you), small baby boy is an absolute angel. ANGEL!! Like if there was a chilled out baby of the year competition, Gabriel would walk it – so he is happily and aptly named as he is literally that. Finally and most relevant to these warblings though,  his arrival it would seem has given us the kick up the arse we so badly needed to finally stop faffing about and shut up and build this already.

angel

Oh hey world. Is me, Gabriel. And yep, she’s that mental she gave me actual wings. Send help?

 

So much has happened, and to be honest, not happened, over the past few years. If you asked what the jaysus hell has taken us so long, I’m not sure either of us could say. Like, there’s a million reasons, and a hundred ragey anecdotes of delays, rogue or absent builders, money headaches, nope make that heartaches, that I wouldn’t, couldn’t, know where to start. It doesn’t matter now but somehow these have filled the minutes, hours and days that have turned into the months and years that have passed. No matter. We are where we are.

So where is that exactly? What the hell am I doing here? Does anyone even blog anymore? Who cares about this build? I’m not even sure I do if I’m honest. So much has gone wrong. There have been long drawn out periods of time where I have lost interest, heart or mostly just the sheer concept of time itself, as the reality of life with young kids and a full-time job means that when my first baby started school this year, I was genuinely shocked. That annoying #blessed type quote of “the days are the long, but the years are short” is maddeningly, frustratingly, #true. For this reason, and for all the reasons I originally wanted to carve out this tiny little online snug of a blog , is that a part of me still hopes even if I don’t currently believe it, that it might still be nice down the line to look back and remember all the absolute hell we have gone through building this house, and hopefully, sigh, do a smug cheers and sink back into our velvet oversized Chesterfield knowing it was all worth it in the end (see I knew this would happen, even in 4 years, interior styles have totally changed. I don’t care, I’m a total chav at heart. That island will still be mine).

If I’m being entirely honest, I’m not sure my heart is in it anymore, or at least at the moment. Possible the biggest reason for that is a large part is currently occupied by afore mentioned, much loved baby Gabriel, our little magical miracle man who I barely even dared to dream of, so that now he is here like IRL , I am gone deep dive full feral. My days are preferably spent smelling his delicious little bald milky head rather than looking at tiles. But also I mean Jesus Christ, this project has gone on for sooooooooo loooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnng. For the past while, I’m finding myself somewhere between bemused and borderline morto when I realise that people have stopped asking about the house as they too are borderline morto to ask. But the thing is, boredom, bemusement, plain old browned off, it doesn’t matter. We have somehow along the way, managed to inch, shuffle, crawl forward with our little pipe dream and today, we are, it would seem, in the final months of this bad boy. We have walls, we have steels (oh Jesus the steels, the steels, so much talk of the steels), we have a roof structure. We have windows ordered and en route. And we are, if I am to believe my builder/architect who have a 100% fail rate when it comes to faith, weeks away from making decisions where I feel I, and in my defence I think most middle class, semi shallow, insta-aspirational middle aged woman would wake up and smell the Downpipe, brass fittings and subway tiling and feel like they finally have something worth contributing and get busy. Like the bus that you wait ages for, suddenly they all come at once, and I think we are on the precipice of bricking this build into our actual home. Just in case you are dissuaded by my apparent lack of enthusiasm, this whole project is still a good thing. Firstly, oh sweet God, is it needed. Baby Gab, with his material entourage of bouncer, changing table, buggy etc means that we now have genuine crowd capacity issues and the hope, promise, dream of space – even if we haven’t a penny to buy anything to fill that space – is tantalisingly close.

So here we are. I’m staring down the barrel of a few fast and furious months of lots of interiors decisions which now that the time has come, I have pinterested myself into inertia. Forest Green is the millennial pink is the new lead grey and all that. I have a new-born, two other small people, and to be honest, following some frankly rip roaringly horrendous birth/post natal “stuff”, I’m possibly not the most stable I’ve ever been so second, third, tenth opinions all welcomed, and quite frankly needed.

Right then, let’s get down to it. How shall we make a new build look rather quite nice, with rather not a lot of money, or time?

If you’re feeling pity, disdain, creative, inspired, come follow me at @brickingitdublin2018 over on the ‘gram and send ‘er help, love, advice, opinions, recommendations, free velvet chesterfield sofas and of course islands. All the islands. Physically, metaphorically, send them. Islands in the stream or in the squares….That is what we’ll be.  For the next little while at least.

Bricking it, the final frontier. Who’s with me?

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