We are building a granny flat.
Although, because my mother wisely married a man some years younger than herself it is, in reality, a flat for Grandpa too. They are both moving in as soon as we finish.*
Isn’t the word “finish” lovely?
Much nicer than the word “bankrupt”. Or “homicidal”.
We all know the dangers of renovations.
My husband and I have always agreed – noticing our decaying bathrooms and the doors falling off the kitchen cupboards and the sag and strange stain on the ceiling just over the bed – that were it not for the certain knowledge that our marriage would not ...