The worst thing about decorating is thinking about it. Just contemplating the upheaval makes me feel like a lie down.
Carenza was very young when we decorated her last
bedroom. Together, she and I painted her
tall bed lipstick pink. Together we got
drips and dribbles on tummies and sleeves.
Together we smeared it all around the house.
For some reason, this time Carenza favours neutrals.
She picked colours more grown-up than I ever had. We spent half an hour in Homebase squinting
at paints which should have been called magnolia
or cream, but, due to the vagaries of
If only her father was as mature as she is.
However, following touching scenes of Father-Daughter
cooperation her new bedroom has been beautifully decorated.
Even the far end of her walk in wardrobe has been papered
with trees. Now all we need to complete
the look is a lamppost, some snow, and Mr Tumnus.