Can you remember the Steven Spielberg comedy – The Money Pit? Well my husband and I could have easily starred in the sequel.
The house had started falling apart as soon as we moved in. There were leaks, rotten floorboards and a broken boiler. We had ploughed money (which we didn’t have) into the house, but hadn’t realised how bad our fixer-upper nightmare was going to be when we bought it or how many years it would take us to complete.
We spent around seven years gutting the house, taking down ceilings, ripping out radiators, doing plumbing, heating and electrical systems and showering at the gym.
By the time we had finished, we had spent a fortune on gym memberships but had transformed it beyond recognition. While we’d become best friends with decorators caulk, masking tape and plaster board, we’d also forgotten what having a good time meant.
We spent endless days cleaning the house, preparing it for potential buyers. Sometimes they didn’t turn up, other times, they’d come and mock the property, and then there were the investors…the less said about them the better! Finally, all the hard graft eventually came to fruition and it was moving day.