The Bonding Project

In search of finding something to do outside of only nagging at my eldest daughter, I cast upon the idea of inventing a summer project we might both work together on. Something exciting enough for her to actually want to spend some precious time alone with me.

I figured appealing to her teenage self-absorbtion might work, so I suggested we give her permanent living quarters bedroom a bit of a face-lift.


She was tickled pink with the pair of bedside cabinets we found on-line. Complete with their little udders, they are kind of cute, aren't they?

Flushed with success, I presented her with paint-charts to peruse. On her way out, she said she would look at them tomorrow. Tomorrow arrived and she again said she would look at them the next day. And on it continued.

I gave up and chose the bloomin' paint myself, eventually enlisting her poor old dad to pitch in with the decorating. Yeah, it was a complete and miserable failure as far as any bonding projects go, but hell, at least I had her enthusiastic and undying (if albeit temporary) fresh love and approval for the time being (so sad the crumbs I'm grateful to receive).

AND..


TA-DAH!

These two chairs I rescued from our storage shed. They'd been languishing in there for the best part of over eight years, all battered, chipped and forgotten. I'm kinda' proud of my renovation, I think they look every bit as good alongside those shop-bought bedside tables up there.

I went to see what other rejected bits of furniture I might re-cycle..



I wasn't disappointed.




And to think, we'd inherited one of these little gems from the previous occupiers who'd only seen fit to leave it behind (I knew it would come in handy one day).




I confess to spending out good hard earned cash on this cow-hide rug, but hey c'mon, how could I resist, eh?




And see that glitter ball on the ceiling? 50p (pence) from a car-boot sale (yard-sale to our American friends).



A couple of lamps, some soft furnishings


And a few posters later..


And the whole place was transformed.


But as you can see, it's still yet a work in progress.


And although she has finally found fit to (for the time being) keep her on-suite loo clutter-free



(Oops, who's that in the reflection?)



Her closet is still a walk-in disaster (sigh).

Beccy has literally just returned this evening from a Netball tour in the UK.

"Mum, mum, guess what?"

"You won?"

"No, even better! This woman stopped us in the shopping centre, in front of all my friends, everybody - she said she represented a modelling agency, and said my face, figure and height was perfect for them - she wanted to give ME her card! It was soooo embarrassing - she said I could be a model! Can you imagine..?"

Catching my frown, she exits, shoulders slumped, with an, "Oh, relax. I told her my mum wouldn't let me."

(Hmph! I told you this new found undying love of hers would be short-lived.)

Sigh.