WELL, here we are again, a new year and it's February already. Don't get me wrong, I'm estatic to be rid of January with its post-Christmas blues and apocalyptic weather. Unfortunately, my new year's resolutions seem to be just as eager to disappear. Only having blossomed a mere month ago, like the determined snowdrops making their appearance right on cue despite the bad conditions, my resolutions are now wilting miserably and need to be revived if they stand any chance of succeeding in 2013.
Firstly, there's the small problem of my deciding on NYE to save the world by entering a marathon this coming June. Sure, there's five months to go, I said. Plenty of time, I said. Now February, and after a lot of comfort eating, a couple of trial runs and a distinctly dodgy knee, I'm beginning to feel a little bit pressurised by my save-the-world pledge. But that is irrelevant, more running and less talking is what is required to tackle this. A snazzy new running bag and a watertight knee support will surely get me back on track. Four months to go. Failure is NOT an option.
In my last post from August (and yes, another resolution is a blog a month, I'm clearly already a month behind so that is already working out splendidly) I spoke about our delightful new home and the joys and near-death experiences of living with Himself. Fast forward to now, and that laundry mix-up seems like it was from another lifetime. Simpler times. Yes, we were cold due to a lack of a boiler and had to watch Homeland while wearing our ski coats, but we were happy. Now, the tables have turned. Our house is undergoing a slow, painful transformaton - new heating, new plumbing, floors up, ceilings down, the works - and resembles what can only be described as a demolition site for over a month now, and we're living in it throughout. There's no luxury hideaway caravan at the end of our garden (which itself is suffering from the renovations and resembles a knackers' yard) to escape to each night. There's no Kevin McCloud turning up with his Grand Designs crew and helping us on our way, while I pose for the camera in my hard hat and then we all crack open the Moet and toast to a job well done as the last £1m solar panel is placed on our roof. Can you tell that I have dreamt of this already? No, far from it. Just Himself and master of all trades dad-in-law tackling it all, one day at a time. Small budget, even smaller crew. No Moet, just a lot of tea and dinner sat on the stairs as there's no furniture right now.
There has been the usual supportive phrases from friends and family -'It'll be worth it though, won't it'? or 'that new working socket is light at the end of the tunnel now though, isn't it?' and my favourite by Himself - 'all we really need is electricity and running water anyway'. As a woman, I can tell you right now that electricity and running water are not very high up on the list of what I really need in my everyday life. One would hope those things were a given living in a modern city. This is where Himself and I differ, well, one of the ways anyway. Himself is in DIY heaven - drills, sockets, lighting options, chisels, cables, spirit levels, measuring tape - a blank canvas ready to be filled by a product designer such as Himself. I, however, am in DIY hell - no bathroom door, showering in a dungeon, walking on nails, nearly breaking my neck tripping over dust sheets, no TV, no internet, no phoneline, no bubble baths, no privacy and some extremely irate neighbours. Nothing but the promise of better days ahead and for someone as impatient as I am, that's not the promise I'm looking for.
But it's better than nothing. And though I complain, I know that some day this year (I hope!), thanks to Himself, we will open our front door and say 'Kevin McCloud, eat your heart out', and it will all have been worth it and it will be the light at the end of the tunnel, just like everyone said. But until then, while my home life is being torn down and rebuilt around me, I figure it's probably not the worst time to be focusing on reviving my month-old resolutions. Work, marathon, friends and writing may just be my ticket to surviving the next few months of renovations, and you can be sure as hell that ticket is one-way, not return!
