Even though I had promised not to invest myself too much in redecorating the house, this being a short-term thing; I find myself up to my knees into the wonderful arts of ‘homemaking’. Is it the fact that I’m Belgian (even though we try so hard to deny and erase that); or is it something genetic (because I might say my mom and brother have the same urges)? Ah… the old nature versus nurture!
Moreover, it seems to only get worse with time. Whereas I contented myself in Cameroon with painting half the house; this time, I’m having doors removed; ceiling tiles changed and off course… a lot of stuff repainted.
I do have an excuse, this time (don’t I always), being the termites, which has forced us to have half of our woodwork replaced. And the traces the termites left on the walls have to be painted over, of course. So while we’re at it, why not change the color? (all the walls here are white, while the woodwork is a nasty cream color). So all doors have to be repainted; not only because otherwise the colors wouldn’t match, also because they’re peeling off and our little monster likes to tear off paint and eat it.
So far, I’ve changed the curtains in our bedroom, because they let in a lot of light, and I had some prefab ones in our trunk anyway; which is leaving us with a black and white room. This weekend, we hung up some picture frames. It’s funny how much homelier it already is with a mere two pictures up on the wall.
I threw some plaids over our sofa’s (who were of an ugly, ugly fabric). I hung a batik I’ve bought in Abidjan the first time we went there. And I also made two wall hangings out of a batik skirt that tore a while ago.
But it seems as though every time I’ve done something, I find something else that could be better.