If you’ve wondered why I’ve been so quiet on the blog since the weekend, it’s because my house was turned upside down and, in the resultant mess, I could barely find my brain, let alone the computer.
Were we burgled, you might ask if we still lived in Sarf London, but, given our location here in the verdant fields of Arabia, being burgled is not really a pertinent question. No, we was not burgled: We was painted.
It’s lovely to own our own house here in Dubai. Really, despite my gripes with the property developer, it’s great to be able to do what I like with the house. I have no qualms in making major changes because I know it’s ours and will be for as long as we choose to remain here (or until we move to Barari, but that’s a story for another day).
And it’s amazing how tiresome the regulation magnolia paintwork can get in six years, not to mention how dirty when you have two small grubby-handed children. So I had the whole interior repainted this week.
“Don’t choose too cool a colour,” warned my design-conscious friend, as I vowed to stamp out any trace of creams or yellows, opting for a neutral palette of white, black-brown and what I hoped was a very light taupe (without a hint of yellow). “It can look purple in a certain light.”
But, as the first coat went on, what did I see but a hint of pinky-purple. “Oh god,” I thought, quickly adding up the cost of the paint and the decorators, not to mention the inconvenience of being shut out of my study for two days, and wondering what I could tell DH. “What a mistake to make.”
But I’m happy to say that, as coat two went on and the paint dried, it’s settled to a beautiful pale taupe with, if I’m really critical, a very, very slight hint of heather, in a certain light.
I can’t say I dislike it.
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