We’ve been a bit quiet recently. Turns out having 5 jobs between us makes things rather hectic. It also makes chat a bit dry. No one really wants to hear about how many plates you can carry at one time or how angry the chef got when you dropped candle wax into one of his meals.
Apologies for that.
In compensation for our silence, here is a little insight into our domestic idyll in Wellington…
This is number 20, Jefferson Street. Our house. Shared with 9 others and 3 cats and the occasional third party couch occupier.
This is the back of the house, showing our enormous backyard, the sunroom on the first floor and then the master (Igor and Georgie’s) bedroom on the second.
This is it again. But at night. And with Igor on the roof.
This is it again again but taken from our currently-under-construction-but-it-is-definitely-taking-shape-and-we-even-have-bar-stools-with-weather-proof-seat-upholstery-stuff bar. Possibly the MOST IMPORTANT part of this photo is the two metal boxes i.e. the most treasured and indispensable house items; mini-firepig (or firepiglet perhaps) and firepig. Nearly all the occupants harbour pyromaniac tendencies. All that wood on the floor is for burning.
Firepig in action.
Mini-starry-firepig in action
The wall, as created by Adam Burstall (we’ve already raved about him). See below.
Wall again. Plus firework.
Wall again again. Plus fire.
Firework. No wall.
This. Is. Wellington.
The two newest Jeffy-fire-club recruits
And we’ll just leave you with one of Clare’s time-lapse-rs …