Finally, we have moved out of my parents’ home during the second week of the month and now we’re back in SJ!
The house was owned by my long dead maternal grandpa (I have not been seeing him in my dreams lately. It must be because he is now happy that we have moved back to the old house) and was built during the 50s. Come to think of it, the house is still owned by grandpa because he has not made any will at all.
This is where my sibs and I grew up in. The bedroom that hubby, little crit and I are now using used to be my parents’ and our bedroom. I can’t imagine how five of us had fit in it.
We had some renovations done. We had the walls repainted for the second time, this time in white as opposed to the previous icky yucky apple green color. I had no one to blame about that color but me. It looked nice as a tiny swatch but as a wall… yaiks. I really do make bad choices when it comes to interior decorating. At least the stark hospital white walls now provide a brighter feel to the room and the full length mirrors of the sort-of-walk-in closets area give the feeling that the room is bigger than it really is.
The white walls are in anticipation of the Little Creature entering the “graffiti artist” stage. I don’t mind crayon covered walls because I’ve been in that stage, too. I can still see some of my “artwork” in some of the old rooms.
Thanks to Dear Hubby for arranging and folding the clothes so neatly like he had some experience working at the Gap store.
From afar, the sort-of-walk-in closet area look like ¼ of my dream walk-in closet. It’s a different story up close. Some of the drawers are difficult to open and sliding the mirror doors open always leaves me huffing and puffing.
To have spent so much for low quality workmanship… tsk, tsk, tsk. How frustrating. It took the carpenters almost three months to complete the job. With so much time in their hands, one would wonder how they could just suddenly pack up and leave such inferior finished products.
The carpenters-slash-painters did not even bother to clean the floors and some of the furniture which they spattered with paint.
Well, we were partly to blame. We gave the initial plan/diagram of what we wanted to the workers and put too much trust on their know-how at carpentry. Only when the job was done did we find out that they didn’t “know-how”.
The only one that turned out sort of ok is the shoe rack. Looks like there is still some space for more shoes!
The best part of moving back? My sweet reunion with our cats. It didn’t take too long for Kitty Bali with the crooked tail to love me again. Look at that sweet face.
But Kitty Colette is still unforgiving. Although I was able to cuddle her for a few seconds, most of the time, she still refuses to look at me and she would act like I do not exist. The few times that she would acknowledge my presence, she would look at me with accusing eyes, like I’m the worst cat owner in the world. What a snob!