Hands off my interiors!

Do not touch…

I love my home; it’s where my family are, where we laugh, cry, love, grow and generally cause the chaos I adore. Second to the humans and animals, is my love of creating a beautiful eclectic space, filled with objects and colour that bring joy to my soul! However, there are a few rules when it comes to the interior of the crib:  First and foremost,, don’t ever have an opinion, never EVERRRRR try to suggest an idea, no comments necessary , do not mess with the position of soft furnishings or furniture inside the sacred space. If you dare whisper the words, shall we, should we, what about this colour, Ive bought a; you will be obtaining your one way ticket and hopping aboard the blazing train to the netherworld, Hades will be waiting! 

Now, for some strange sadistic reason, Blu, will Occasionally break these very important rules of the house and even though I become visually comparable to a rabid dog chewing a dishwasher tablet, He still feels the need to purchase and proudly present me with various items for the house! There’s the striped , dog-shite brown door mat in various shades of filthy! Just because its all shades or brown,  it doesn’t complement the beautiful American oak stained floor Blu boy, we’re not hiding out with Bear fucking grills!!! Theres an amazon purchase of PAPER, yes paper, roman blinds. Said blinds are apparently destined for the window of the back door and apparently they are to obscure the view of the nosy neighbours! Now, the only possible way they could ever see into my back door (no pun intended) they would need to fling themselves, head first out of their top window, hang on by their big toe and contort their neck into a position only an owl could be happy with. Also, slightly hypocritical to suggest they would ever want to peer into our kitchen when it’s gadget boy, with the billion X zoom telescope, pointing straight through their upstairs window!!!

http://www.johnlewis.com


It’s Sunday, the decorator is arriving tomorrow and as per every day of our lives together, we’re approximately four weeks behind schedule for everything that has to happen in the next 24 hours !

“I’m off to the store to buy some paint darling, I’ll see you soon!”” Oooh wait Nelly, I’ll tag along with you” ” and me please, Mummy, I can have a go on the new indoor slide” “No my precious family, Mummy only needs paint and I’ll be straight back.” “We’ve got our shoes on already, we may as well tag along”. “Can I bring , Sirius, please Mummy?” “no Sweetie pie, tortoises and not allowed in the DIY store, they eat the plants!”

I can feel the rage festering, like a burning pit of fire in my knackered sigmoid colon and this Stress is a one way sprint straight to a flare up!!!

After arriving at the DIY store, I head straight to the paint, assuming my unwanted passengers are behind me! Where the fuck is he, ” Bluuuuu, Bluuuuuuu”, calling just loud enough to be heard at least two aisles away and I don’t  resemble lost child!!! There wants to be an absolutely outstanding excuse for his disappearance,  A very serious accident, life threatening illness or he’s at the wonderful In-store bakery purchasing one of their home made eclairs! These three excuses will be his only protection – I’ll ring him, 11 calls later I’m now pushing a trolly large enough to carry a small car and I Kid you not, there wasn’t  one bastard fellow shopper willing to tell me it was a ‘pull along’ trolly! No fellow pissed off wives looking for their gadget obsessed, husband, to quietly whisper in my ear “hey you absolute arsehole, you are churning up the perfectly fine, flat, concrete floor pushing that thing around; Also 100% guaranteed to cause serious damage to the last healthy vertebrae in your spine and ruin what’s left of your dignity!!!  ’ PULL’ woman, it says ‘PULL’ right there on the handrail!!!  No one came to my rescue and 27 minutes later, with only one aisle covered, due to the draggy trolly, I decided enough was enough and parked it! I now have freedom and speed on my side and I needed to start covering some ground! Go to the obvious places Nelly, you’ll find him there, girl: BBQ’s, excessively large hand tools,  army knives that have a fully concealed cutlery set, that’s where he’ll be! 

I’m now sweating, there’s a steamy vaporous cloud wafting behind me from the stagnant, cold, sweat my unused pores created whilst trolly shoving, and I know other shoppers are steering well clear of this scarlet faced, raging maniac! As I conquered the corner of aisle eight, ( I’m sure this feeling is similar to that of Junko Tabei when she summited everest) – There he was, the blinkered gadget geek, checking out the latest laser levels! He was pointing, swishing, positioning and correcting with not a care in the world! The only thing you’ll be levelling with that laser pal is your straight line towards the exit of my life!!! Why do you need a laser line my manly husband? Why are you needing to have such expensive straight lines in your life? Is it soooooo important you need a tripod for your super manly laser, which in all honesty could blast satellites clean out of space!!! Apparently, It was forty five trillion pounds, down to a smidge under half price and you never know when these things come in handy! 

Manly stuff
Pizza porn
Not a care in the world!!!!!!

“Is it ironic, Nelly, that the name of the paint you purchased is called “sulking room pink”

Blu thinks it’s hilarious,, suggests I can have it as my very own special pink room – “Ooh what’s wrong with you Nelly? Do you have a temperature? You’re looking very flushed, demonic looking actually! Breathe, Nelly, in and out; in through your nose and out through your mouth. Maybe a paper bag will help?”

This is the colour! Yayyyyyy

After passing out cold from Blu’s suggestion of lime green in the kitchen, I realise one of a few things:

  1. I adore my gadget obsessed infuriatingly laid back hoarder. without his hard work and complete dedication to everything, me, I wouldn’t be able to create my gorgeous home. He has the skills to pay the bills!
  2. He’s shite at interior design but he does pay for the paint…
  3. He’s a dab hand with the ‘power tools’  if you get ma drift 
  4. Who would do the dump run if he wasn’t around???

I don’t have many wise words to end this post with, other than always ‘pull’ when it is clearly marked ‘pull’ , stay calm and breathe, even if you’re boiling brain is about to explode from the unhelpful opinion of others and finally, never, ever let anyone tell you Lime green  is a thing for your walls, other shades of green are available.

Instead I’ll leave you with some nifty tips I apply to help achieve a beautiful home And a space I enjoying living in. 

  • Always have things around, YOU, like to look at. Never keep anything just because its ‘in’ or someone bought it for you. If your Aunty Pamela likes to look at China cherubs from the church bizarre , kindly suggest she puts them in her house for safe keeping. 
  • I like to keep a colour scheme running through the house, keeping smaller rooms lighter to create an illusion of space and adding bolder colours to larger rooms for maximum impact.. Be adventurous and don’t be afraid to experiment. 
  • Mix old with new, be eclectic with your ideas. 
  • Lighting can make or break a room. No girl wants to be sat under a strip light while watching Love island, overdue for a chin wax!!! Lamps, soft lighting, plenty of natural light ( if possible) is a sure way to create a comforting look in all rooms. 
  • If you get bored easily, keep your walls plain and accessorise with prints, texture and colour. When you become bored of last year’s Mexican theme, use those old cushions as ammunition for the whiney neighbours and go treat yourself to some new, fresh soft furnishings with a completely different feel.
  • Create the space for you (maybe include other people in the house if they insist), and no one else!

Paint from http://www.farrow-ball.com

Period poverty!!!

Period poverty.

What an absolute Mother trucking breakthrough for girls across England!!! Amika George, is an absolutely outstanding human being for starting this campaign and if I ever get the chance to meet you Amika, I will kiss you, hug you and squeeze you! Free sanitary products in all UK secondary schools and colleges, what an inspiration to women of all ages you are! Let’s face it ladies, periods suck arse as a bare minimum, but to have to worry about being able to afford sanitary products to feel comfortable and avoid the upset, worry and the complete devastation one would feel without these important and vital necessities, is beyond belief. We need to talk about periods to our children, husbands, boys and girls. Why is it such a taboo subject when we all arrived into this world from the same fluffy, warm, beautifully vermilion starter home where, our Mummas kept us safe for 9 months. PERIOD, PERIOD, PERIOD, PERIOD and PERIODS!!!

My periods started when I was 12. I was in the morgue at A hospital in London , and take it from me, A porter appearing in the dark, wheeling a ‘non alive person’ (I can’t say the D word) was actually the closest I ever wanted to come to ever seeing a potential zombie! Not a bad place to start your periods though, as upstairs in the maternity ward it was sanitary products central! Once I’d found a nurse, I couldn’t actually bring myself to approach her, let alone tell her what I wanted from her! The words would not exit my mouth? I was sooooo, embarrassed, how could I possibly tell this woman who delivers babies every day, who has seen more Fanny’s than Hugh Hefner and mopped up more blood, goo and slimey shizz than we could ever imagine; how could I say those words “I’ve started my periods and could I have a sanitary towel please” ??? If I actually say the words then she will know, she will actually know that I am Leaking from my lala! All I can say about hospital sanitary wear from the 80’s is ‘large absorbent pillow’ they were, the size of a feckin pillow! This amazing lady, who was incredibly kind, gentle and more importantly to 12 year old me, completely unfazed by this monumentous confession ( I will never forget you and will be forever grateful for your kindness) filled up a hospital bag with these things, full to the brim, overflowing infact – when I inspected the bags contents, there was possibly 5 towels in there, that’s how gigantuam (is that even a word?) they were! I’d had a giggle with my bestie, we stuck them on our head and I walked home, legs akimbo, so wide you could have driven a bus through them ,but I felt proud, proud that I had become a woman and happy my periods had arrived.


I told my Mum the next day, we made a special trip together to sids corner shop for our important purchase. Mum gave Sid the nod, Sid acknowledges the nod and was so slight of hand, those babies were off the shelf, in a brown paper bag out of sight so fast, it was as if it hadn’t happened? Was Sid also a magician? Why didn’t he ever let me in on his magical secret, I’d spent 10p daily on my mixup of blackjacks and custard creams, walked his dog and he still chose to keep this wizardry from me! Mum had a chat with me during our walk home which consisted of ” would you like me to show you how to use them” I can only compare the terror of that question to seeing the zombie porter in the morgue!!! That is never something I want or need you to do, thank you Mum, I’ve absolutely got this, Im an adult now for Christs sake!

Doubles up as a nifty pollution mask when your riding your bike!

After walking around for a whole week looking and walking like a sumo wrestler, I realised:

a. You don’t need to spend half the day weaving the lengthy piece of cloth around your waist like it was going to save your life in a climbing accident, it’s optional.

And

b. If it has a sticky strip, never, ever stick it straight onto the skin and repeat every few hours for the whole week, it burns.

c. Listen to your Mummy’s, they’re wise, they care about you and I can guarantee they too had periods.

Typical day for my 1980’s periods at home:
Wooahhhhhh, body form, bod…… who turned the tv over? Where’s Dad? Why is he coughing so loudly, is Dad choking????? Why has Dad made a bivouac out of the evening standard and now drinking his tea inside it??? someone please help Dad, I think he dying!!

Typical day for our home now, with our girls:

Dad, please don’t sneeze like that, I’m on my period! Dad, rub my back please I have terrible period pains, Dad my head hurts can you pour me some water and grab me some paracetamol, Dad can I have a cuddle as I’m on my period and feeling really low, darling could you grab me some sanitary towels from Morrison’s on your way home (for as long as he’s been doing this one, we still always get a plethora of makes, models and sizes, it’s like the hospital bag all over again)

Thank you again, Amika, from all us girls…

Nelly

http://www.tampax.co.uk http://www.always.co.uk http://www.earthwisegirls.co.uk