One of my friends saw the covered table with the paper flowers on it and asked if I was having 'children' round. I guess she thought it looked childish. Good. I still want a Barbie Dream House, I guess. In continuation of the Barbification of the house, I lifted the hideous red carpet and had a man with teeth like pegs in to paint it with a pink stripe up the middle (same colour as the loo floor - seemed a shame to waste the Designers Guild floor paint. I should have known that a man who doesn't take care of his teeth might be equally slapdash with his idea of 'neat' because this guy does not know how to colour within the lines, nor how to measure distance as the stripe is ever so slightly off to the left. When I took the tape off it was full of smears and leaks, but by that time he had already disappeared for a week and fitted the carpet to a metal strip that didn't keep it fixed. Enough. I decided I could fathom the mysteries of Frog Tape myself and touch it up as and when I feel like it. Barbie isn't planning on a visit any time soon, and we don't care that much. I quite like it. It's fun. My friends house is a shrine to minimalism and stuff lying around because they're so minimalist that there's no where to put it. I prefer mine. I like clutter, I like pink, and I like paper. The problem is that you do one thing and set off another ten that need doing. I have more plans than time to do them. I feel like a kid with a pot of poster paints and a big blank canvas that I can do whatever I like with - cover it with wrapping paper, draw on the walls, nail shoes to the wall and use them for keys. Oh yes. You can't see those in the picture. They're from Nigeria, and I got them from the friend who thinks my house looks like Playschool.
I can only imagine what she's going to think.
