A Woman In A Man’s Loft

We took the ‘Man Loft’ by the horns this weekend.

There was only ever going to be one way to do this.

There is simply no time to be lily-livered.

I have surpassed my own expectations and have gone from a hoarder to a hurler (check out the arms below if you don’t believe me).

And oh how therapeutic this weekend been.

The whole house has been like a building site but my *soul is beautifully cleansed.

*Note to self – too much Shakespeare on a Friday night is not good for a loft review

So here I am on my tea break surveying the efforts of my project management.  If I’m going to do manual labour, tea is an essential.  Well actually, tea is essential full stop.

Notice I’m doing the unthinkable here and instead of showing a picture of my hot steaming Latte, I’m showing a picture of me steaming in the extra hot loft drinking my tea looking – well, Lofty.

Credit : Industrial Lighting courtesy of Iron Man

I always ask myself whether posts are going to hit the right note and be of interest before publishing.  Lofts are a bit of a dry subject and there is nothing special about mine but I’m guessing you have one too or have been on this same journey and I hope that you will humour me with this series.

(Or him!)

So upon realising he is about to lose some vital man space, Iron Man has entered into the spirit of cash in the attic and having realised he has got some pretty top retro gaming equipment, he is up and down the ladder quicker than you can shout ‘I’ll take it’.

And whilst he is caught up with the world trading markets, I am taking the opportunity to get some organisation going on in the space that he has called home for all these years.

I’m guessing there’s going to be some kind of mourning period for him as we say goodbye to the loft ladder for the last time but we are ready to catch him when he falls.

This loft is testament to the fact that I love a lever arch file.  My passion for a course is evident here.

And of course there were going to be ‘finds’.

This is the tankard presented to me when I moved on from my time in the Harrier Project Office at the Ministry of Defence.  Oh how I loved it there.  The tankard was a rite of passage presented to those that had successfully achieved membership of the Friday lunchtime drinking club.  In my early 20s, I joined the service men and women for a weekly tour of some of London’s finest public houses.  I wonder where they all are now.

And then there was the floristry business and my little van.  A real life lesson on how to go to Plan B when Plan A fails – and quickly.  Some wonderful support from family and friends for which I will always be grateful.  Lots of shoe leather, sweat and tears and recoveries from doors closing in the face.  And then success.

And the opportunity to provide flowers for some wonderful weddings, events and venues including The Queen’s House and London Zoo.  These are photos of photos so the quality is not great.

My little business which I started after quitting many years of work in the City.

I kept going through to my seventh month of pregnancy where size dicated that I was no longer able to climb into the mystery machine.

And then for a few months after The Kid arrived.

Talking of which, here she comes ……….

Look at all of that clear space!  I still cannot imagine it being a bedroom though.

And then some oldies and goodies.

A chocolate box belonging to my mother and father.  Used by my father for paperwork after the chocolates had been eaten.  He was a very organised man but also loved to keep things in case they came in handy.  There is a lesson here.

Really cute to see that they had written their names next to their favourites.  Nuts for dad and Aero and soft centres for mum.  That never changed.  With Coffee Cream and Turkish Delight being the poor relations, not much has changed there either.

And as was the East End way, the beautiful wedding china – saved for best.  22 carat gold.  One can only imagine how precious it must have been to receive these.  They are too good to be in the loft but then there is the fear of breakage.

I need to give some thought to where in the house they can be safely displayed.

So that is the first cut – still a way to go but we are on a roll now.

I have found it very easy to clear and chuck.  If things are important they stay and will be included in the fabric of the house.  Other essentials will go in the eaves.

And in lieu of a treat for The Kid for her school report, I gift her these beauties so that she may know how important it is to grasp the basics.  She will be expected to use them during the summer holidays in a logical manner, concurrent with a child of her age.

And, if she chooses to stand on them in order to reach the mirror to apply her lip gloss then she will do so will my full blessing.

Because, here within these books is a month of my life that I won’t get back.

No further education on this subject required – thank you very much.

There will now be a temporary interlude in loft updates until the big build commences.

Feel free to share your stories in my comments section.

And, once again, thank you for reading.

Nicky

 

 

 

 

 

 

We’re Going Through The Roof

A decision has been very quickly reached in the household in the last few weeks.

Not just reached, but put into action.  There really is no stopping us.

Quite swift work I should say.

The decision has been made to go up rather than out.

I talk not about our svelte-like physiques but our home.

We have decided to have a loft conversion.

Rumour has it that this is due to Iron Man’s terrible snoring.

Personally, I will not have a word said against this man.  

It’s bad enough that he is going to be losing some key ‘man space’.

Lofts (particularly ours) are his domain.   The place where he goes to ‘not put things away properly’.  My only role is to shout futile instructions from the bottom of the ladder.

I do the occasional ‘Ofloft’ inspection and have made some very useful recommendations.  Whether or not they have been acted upon is another matter.

Finding boot sale stuff in the Christmas section is really hurtful when you’ve put so much effort into being the remote assistant.  

But it’s none of these things.  It’s space and we need more of it.  Actually, we want more of it. 

But what we gain in space we lose in storage.

This will mean a bit of fine tuning in the hoarding department.

Well more than that.  More like a damn good clear out, several hissy fits and floods of sentimental tears as we say goodbye to a lot of stuff that I we would probably rather keep.

I cannot stand clutter but I also don’t like to part with sentimental things.

I realise that makes me sound quite mad and I’m sure that when I hug my curtains from John Burns Drive, my first big girl home of 25 years ago, I will appear even madder.

The fact that these curtains have been in the roof for 20 years and are unlikely to come out again means that their journey down the loft ladder will probably be their last.

I’m still going to have a bloody good cry though.  They were my pride and joy.   My lovely top floor flat in Barking could well have been a Penthouse in Manhattan.  It was that wonderful.

I guess a good sign that an item is no longer useful is when it’s still in the removal box from the last home.

And our Christmas department would rival Selfridges.

The fact that we have a tree with three sides – is precisely what makes us the people that we are.

The fact that we have several other trees is evidence that we have aspirations to muscle in on the Harrods Parade.

And having stored clothes from Age 0-50 also means we could deck out floors 1-5 too.

And then there’s the cards.  Every card of The Kid’s for the last 10 years – birth, Christmas and birthday.  My cards, my parents cards and cards to and from people I don’t actually know.  That is going to be tricky.

And shock horror – the 18th & 21st keys.  That’s half the loft for starters.

Do people even have these keys anymore?  Do people even know what they are?

I wonder.

Such a rite of passage to receive and yet they serve no purpose, other than to sit in the loft.

Then comes Memory Boxes – and – well let’s just say it’s rubbed off on The Kid.

My memory boxes contain everything that’s ever made me smile, laugh or cry.  That’s one hell of a lot of things.

The Kid now has a memory section of her own and I only have myself to blame.

So my question today is :

‘Is it possible to be sentimental when you have no space?’

What do people do with their ‘stuff’?

The upside of all of this is that I get to exercise my creative side and start planning what it’s going to look like.

This is the fun bit.  One bedroom, one bathroom.

20 million colours and designs to choose from.  Not very long to do so.

No particular ideas as yet, other than a few thoughts around copper and silver.

I shall be checking in again with more thoughts around colours and designs soon.

If you don’t hear from me, it will probably be because I’m trying to decide on a sink!

Until next time

Nicky