Rainbow shelves

Two months ago, we bought a house. We owned property before, but going from a small one bed flat to a 3-bed house has left us both feeling spectacularly like we’re playing at being grown ups (I don’t think I’ve had to go upstairs to go to bed since I last lived with my folks 12 years ago. It’s very strange, but kinda fun).

The house we’ve bought actually used to be my parents place. They’ve downsized and we’ve upscaled. All in all, it’s been a very topsy turvy house purchase with a world of emotions attached. Thankfully it wasn’t my childhood home so I’m not attached to the green carpets in the lounge or the four different coloured and patterned carpets upstairs (honestly, what is wrong with old people?!) so now we’re in, we’re working hard at changing the bits that need changing and working out how we can afford to do the more extravagant building work (like a brand new kitchen….)

Our weekends are taken up with painting walls, weeding the garden, browsing furniture blogs and websites and visiting antique markets to drool over lovely mid-century furniture we can’t really afford.

One of the things we hated about our old flat was the lack of space to display books and memories. I’m a prolific reader and had hundreds of books (and I’m sure I’ll write a post on my love of my Kindle soon), the husband also likes to read but a bit more slowly than me) and came to our relationship with many books that he’d inherited from family and friends over the years. So we knew we wanted to have a space to display our books and intersperse them with knick knacks and thingiemejigs that we’ve collected on our travels. My lovely friend Kate, who has an awesome interiors blog that showcases her fabulous home, has a bookshelf in her home where she’d colour matched the spines of her literature to form a literary rainbow so in the spirit of interior theivery, I stole her idea.

Using Ikea’s Billy bookshelves as a basis (you cannot go wrong with an Ikea basic!), we built five bookshelves and attached them to the wall in what is now referred to as the library (because we’re fancy). And then the fun started….

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Or at least the organising did. I love to organise everything from making sure that the glasses match when I load the dishwasher to lining up shoes in order of heel height so having a wall of empty bookshelves appealed to the obsessive compulsive in me. And as you’ll see from the below (and my cover image), the result is a slightly dishevelled but rainbow matched shelving unit. I even went so far as to match vases and ornaments and pebbles and pennies to the different coloured sections (this was the point when the husband went upstairs to put his head in his hands and sigh!) It’s not perfect but it’s very much us and it’s probably the only bit of our new home that feels like it’s imbued with our spirit (so far! We’re working on the rest of it).

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(sort of) Wishing fate had dealt me a different hand…

At a formative age, I read somewhere or heard someone say about an elderly American lady from the Deep South that she liked to listen to her stories whilst eating bon bons. This sounded like a fantastic way to spend an afternoon or a lifetime and I’ve since strived to make my life one filled with bon bons and stories.. However, as I’m not actually 80 and I don’t have a terrace on which to while away an afternoon listening to my stories on the wireless, it’s sometimes easier imagined than done.

And I’ve never spent an afternoon with a quilting bee.

All in all, my dreams of being an elderly Southern gentlewoman are shot down by being a middle-aged British/Sri-Lankan living in working in grey and cold London town.

Not that life’s at all bad. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s bloody good fun. I’ve got a job, a house, a cat, a husband, great friends and family. So this blog will record the stories we make when we play together and the bon bons we share when we eat together and hopefully one day they’ll be tales we tell when we are all old and wrinkly and have terraces on which to while hours away.

Story telling, bad dancing, much eating.