My self indulgent pot hunting has been brought to an abrupt halt. I went over to Cottage Garden Nursery at East Brisbane this morning, but the pots weren't quite right and not really big enough. That's it. Game's over.
When I got home I went to the letterbox to check for mail and I found an invoice from our builder. We had assumed we were all square, but apparently not. It will take all our money in the bank, reserved for finishing touches, and more!
I have always said that renovating is not all beer and skittles and I endeavour to tell our journey warts and all. You've really got to have the stomach for it people. I won't lie to you, sometimes it's tough.
I called my husband to tell him the news, he went quiet and said he had to sit down, neither of which come naturally to him.
I called the bank....for more money. They haven't rang me back yet. Hell's bells!
Oh well, I'm sure the children won't mind skipping Christmas this year.
On a brighter note, I found my favourite cookbook, Fab Food Retro Classics. It was in a box of novels under my Lily Brett books.
They don't call them 'classics' for nothing. They're good. Think dinner party favourites from the 60s, 70s and 80s. Last night we had Steak Diane. On the menu for the next week is chicken cordon bleu (chicken stuffed with ham and swiss cheese), scotch eggs (too hard to explain), prawn cocktails and apricot chicken (you either love it or hate it). I'm so happy to have found it again.
Cooking is soothing for me, and cooking food like this is as good as it gets. How timely I've found it just when I need preoccupying.
The awnings are doing a great job of keeping the afternoon sun out. Who would have thunk it?
The grass has grown so much it's been mowed already.
We've hung some more paintings.
Deep breath. As Doris Day would say, 'whatever will be, will be'.