We moved into our new house last Tuesday which was made all the more exciting for The Ginger Prince by it being an actual building site complete with at least eight workmen at any one time (to whom he kept shouting “Men working!”), multiple open paint cans and two ladders to cause mischief on. Oh, and no furniture. It turns out we needed to construct a wall in the garden, fix the electrics and plumbing, re-plaster and paint the walls, mend and polish the floor boards, install a gate and alarm system and (most satisfying of all) remove all the 1970s tiles that had been glued onto the ceiling throughout in order to paint and restore the tongue and groove wood underneath. Not much then. When I say ‘we’ did it, I mean in the sense that we contracted it all out. DIY is not really the South African way, it would seem, and if you ask about prices to hire a floor sander people look at you as though you are criminally insane, so when in Rome and all that. I am sure, however, that AA would like it to be known that the de-construction of the filthy aviary in the garden cost him two of his very own weekends. All that is left there now is a bare wooden structure that may one day house a swing or slide, the occasional mouse in a trap and bare earth soaked with AA’s own blood, sweat and tears.
Who knew bossing people about would be so stressful and time consuming? For around a month I have been meeting with tradespeople, arranging quotes and driving to Builder’s Warehouse almost daily, since our team of workmen come without transport. Hard to believe that a month ago I didn’t know my bags of cement from my tile grout and now I am a regular in the ‘contractors’ isle of Builder’s Warehouse and often have a tape measure in my hand bag for no specific reason, just in case.
In the week we have been living here the workmen have dwindled to one hard working Malawian without much English who TGP thinks lives here, in the attic (?), and follows around all day in spite of being ignored, or perhaps because of it. Our furniture has steadily grown from nothing to what can almost be described as too much and, after an unsuccessful attempt to make a stir fry with a plastic fork, we have finally unpacked the essentials; kitchen things, Lego, and lots of toy animals. Our original projected budget for the work on the house was an actual joke (that we keep on the fridge for amusement) and we have overspent by so much that we left ourselves with almost nothing for furniture. In the absence of Ikea, or any other decent budget furniture store, we have been trawling the murky depths of Gumtree and thereby routing through garages and living rooms of everyone on this peninsula from emotional ex-pats returning home to a Christian who tried to convert me and then sold me a bracelet for 20 Rand (£2) which I was too embarrassed not to take, along with a huge dining table (which was an absolute bargain). I am most proud of my mismatched dining chairs but the best Gumtree bargain of all is a King Size solid brass bed which was only 1,000 Rand (£100).
Three things I have learned from my Gumtree experience; 1) that Gumtree is addictive as well as hard work 2) that not everyone is going to be totally normal but most people are quite honest and 3) that taking a toddler to a stranger’s house is almost always a bad move for everyone, but very particularly for that stranger’s pets.
Toddlers greet change with suspicion and in the weeks leading up to the move TGP would slide suspiciously over to where I might be packing a box and all but accuse me of maliciously hiding his toys. Sometimes he would use trick questions and mind games like asking me where his toy dinosaur’s Mummy is, when he knows I know we never had a Mummy dinosaur or asking today, in a throw away fashion, if all his choo-choo trains were still at the old house . He clamoured to be taken round to the new house when it was being renovated, since that is where his Daddy spent many weekends and evenings, and when he got here he would run around in excited circles, but now that we live here he seems deeply confused.
To be fair there has been a lot going on lately. TGP’s playmate for a fortnight, The Ginger Princess (my great niece and TGP’s second cousin), arrived amid the glamour of the airport, chewed on a few favourite choo-choo trains, splashed about in the sea as though she had been doing it her whole life and is now gone but not forgotten. TGP still discusses what she might be doing and whether or not she wants her milk. I would like to say he shared all his toys with her willingly but the best I can really say for him is that he got better about it over the fortnight.
I would also like to say that I’m sure it will all calm down now but once a two year old starts on a chocolate advent calendar there are probably no moments of calm in sight. Christmas is not quite the fuss out here as it is at home but TGP still sings jingle bells to himself at least five times a day (both in English and in a made-up language of his own) and anxiously confirms regularly that Father Christmas has presents in his bag. His Mum, meanwhile, has just today started on her Christmas shopping and is finding moving, last trimester pregnancy and very hot afternoons greatly impede festive cheer. But I’m sure our next guests will cheer me out of my Grinch mood so roll on holiday season, all I need to do now is find us a tree to go with our previously enjoyed furniture.
New dining room, complete with mismatched chairs and uninvited house guest.
Old dining room...
Horrible old 1970's ceiling tiles
New ceilings!
Best Gumtree bargain! (100 pounds)
Lounge (complete with rocking-zebra, every home needs one)
