It's Me, Sara Louise

The summer is flying by.

It’s already been a month since we’ve moved into our new home, and we’re making progress. Slow progress, but progress.

Provence is so beautiful right now, and everyone is in such a festive holiday mood that there is always a BBQ to go to, a pool to swim in, or Mojitos at that bar to drink. Naturally, home improvements have not been the biggest priority.

But now, we’re under a bit of pressure… 

In 15 days, Auntie J and Uncle E arrive, and in 16 days, my Mother.
Yes, they are arriving one day apart. They are all flying from Dublin, to Marseille, but arriving one day apart. How convenient.

(In the interest of avoiding a grating phone call later… my Mother bought her ticket first. And on the bright side, The Husband and I have an excuse to stay in a swish hotel in Marseille that Friday night).

So family is arriving soon, and the clock is ticking.

(It sort of feels like Darth Vader is standing behind me doing that heavy breathing thing).

Today, I’m tackling the world’s ugliest bathroom.

This is what I’m up against…

 

This is horrideous.

(I know that’s not a word, I made it up. A hybrid of horrible and hideous. Sometimes horrideous is the only word.)

Horrideous.

I bet the same nutjob that painted the staircase in the old house had a hand in this horrideousness. (It’s growing on you, isn’t it?).