The trailhead

Last year I bought a house in England after living here for 7 years.

Buying a house, getting myself on the property ladder, was a huge step—and it was something I’d taken for granted in the past. I had a home and a mortgage in the states before moving here, but sold the house and everything in it when I moved across the pond in 2015. It was an event where I reduced my life—a life with house, a couple of acres, a car, bikes, kayaks, so many things—down to two suitcases in order to pursue a new life 4,000 miles away. I get chills thinking about the bravery I had then to step so firmly into the unknown. Well, bravery or naivety—not too sure—but I suppose the two aren’t so different.

Fast forward to 2022 and everything in my life had completely changed. I’d been married and divorced, my career had changed drastically—I had changed—and somehow I was still living in England. I came in here 2015 a sapling, and in 7 years looked down to discover my roots had grown deeper and deeper, and my branches were gaining strength after weathering a few storms.

I’d thought about uprooting myself many times to go to London for work, or back to the states, or just—wherever—since I had a career that could be done remotely. But every time those opportunities arose, I’d take a good look around me—at my friends, the connections I’d built, the hobbies and activities that this city had been holding space for me to do, and so many little good things. I think Sheffield is like a little good city—not too big, not pretentious, easy going, but with plenty of things to engage with should one choose to do so.

I had kept myself busy the whole time. Something about being an immigrant, about being so far away from my safety nets, made me work harder and harder. And eventually I’d done well enough with my work that I was able to save up some money to get back on to the property ladder once again. It seemed like a sensible thing for 35-year-old me to do—why keep throwing money away on rent to help someone else’s balance sheet when I could be improving my own?

The inquisition

January - June 2022

In January of 2022 I began the inquisition, first speaking to mortgage advisors to figure out what I could actually borrow and how. I learned about the limitations I would face as an immigrant on a work visa. And had to make decisions as to whether or not I could withstand the risk of buying a property knowing that if I were to lose my job (which my visa was dependent on), I’d have to leave the country within 60 days.

It would have been sensible to wait until I got my indefinite leave to remain, which is like a green card or permanent settlement visa (which I got just last month, Nov. 2023); but when have I ever been sensible? Why start now? Life is a game anyway, and I don’t plan on taking my jersey off until the very last day.

So I got my mortgage in principle (the thing saying a bank will give you a loan for a house purchase), and I began shopping.

I wasn’t expecting the journey to be so emotional, either. What seemed like a sound financial decision and decently adult-y thing to do opened the gates to baskets of emotions I hadn’t expected.

The first basket of emotions came when I realized that not only was I doing this, but it was all on my own back—I was doing this completely independently, thanks to hard work and commitment. This hit me after the first viewing—I was with a friend of mine, and after the viewing I broke down in his car and subsequently on the kitchen floor of my house after he dropped me off. Despite how tearfully proud I was at my achievement, I also experienced mixed feelings about doing this alone—in my minds-eye I had always imagined I’d be doing this house-buying thing with a partner. But those feelings came and went like the tide, and at the end of the day I was just stoked I could do this—just me and my cat, finding a place and making it our own without anyone else’s opinions or tastes interfering. Nice.

After hopping in and out of houses for a few months, and making a few offers, I finally got an offer accepted on one—I remember I was flying home to visit my family, and paid the exorbitant wi-fi fee on the flight because it was that day that I was expecting an email to see if I’d made it through the first round of offers, and I did. Then a few days into my trip I got a call from the realtor saying, “You’re offer has been accepted.”

I was elated.

Runway and take-off

June - November 2022

Months passed before I was able to move in, the offer was accepted on the first of June, then we had to go through the slog of solicitors negotiating and digging up documentation going back 100+ years. It was a period of uncertainty. It seemed like we’d never nail down a moving date, and as soon as we did the goal post would move. We were originally supposed to move the first week of October, but after a few push-backs, the move finally happened the second week of November.

Those months between June and November were the hardest for me. It was like being in pergatory, or in a holding pattern. I had to re-negotiate moving dates with my landlord a number of times, which was annoying but fortunately he was patient and understood the process. And there were so many factors at play that could have made the purchase fall through—time, sellers getting cold feet, the mortgage offer running out and the rapidly rising interest rates changing the whole deal.

But finally, in the second week of November, the moving vans showed up to my house, I got a key to the new place, and moved in.

Moving day itself was like playing a really bad and costly game of musical chairs. I was at the end of a 4-part chain, so the way it worked was we all exchanged contracts and released funds on the same day. All sellers had to hand their keys into the estate agents mid-day, at the same time that they were moving out and into the next house on the chain. This meant that I was moving in as the previous owners were still moving out. In retrospect I wish I had waited a couple of weeks before moving in, to give the previous owners enough time to move out and then to give myself time to clean the house before moving in. But… so it goes. Live and learn.

I knew before moving in that I’d want to refresh and redecorate the place, head to toe. I bought the house because I loved the location, the structure of the house, the space it contained, the wood floors, fireplaces, and the garden in the back. The location was important because I wanted to be within walking distance of everything I needed—gym, work, shops, city centre, whatever. It ticked all my boxes. But the place definitely needed a makeover.

It had old, thick wallpaper floor to ceiling in every room, that had been painted multiple times. In some places the wallpaper had started to peel or lift away from the plaster beneath. The plaster itself was old and crumbling in some places. In other places in was in better shape. A house as old as this had had renovations before, so there was a mix of old (dating back to 1905) and less-old (the last work had been done in the early 2000’s) fixtures and surfaces.

The house has two working fireplaces, both decorated with tile—and of course some of the tiles were chipped or cracked, but these cosmetic problems were reparable or at least cover-up-able. The wood floors were mostly original, and while they were a bit worn and dirty, the blemishes were all surface level. There was some old and very worn carpet lining the stairs, but carpet is easy to replace.

And the colors—the colors weren’t quite aligned with my style, very bold red in the front room, burnt orange in the first floor bedroom, cheddar-y yellow and crayon blue in the bathroom, yellow in the loft bedroom.

The only room I knew I’d keep mostly as-is was the kitchen—It was the most recent thing to have been renovated, and was in good shape. And had a neautral palette from the tiles, wooden counter tops and slightly off-white cabinets that I felt I could work with.

I knew full well how extensive home renovations can be. I’d heard the battle stories from others who had gone before me into the fields of renovation land. Also my parents are DIY-ers, so I’d either helped or witnessed them take on multiple projects around the house we lived in when I was growing up. And I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, my plan was to tackle the entire house—I wanted to get it done.

That being said, I knew I’d be living with some messes and chaos for months, and I was ok with that. It’s my project, I’ll cry if I want to.

So, in the weeks after moving in I was in the mode of: inspecting and fixing minor things (like unnecessary cables running here and there); and tearing back surfaces to see what’s there (like peeling back wallpaper, and removing the old carpet). And cleaning. It felt like I was constantly cleaning, but it was an old house and had been radically lived-in by the family of four, plus pets, that was here before—every surface needed a good scrub.

But since I moved in so late in the year—I decided to hold back on doing anything drastic over the winter. There wasn’t much I could do anyway, and I needed to get trades around to give me quotes for all the projects I had been considering.

Phase one: Inviting trades around for quotes

December 2022 - Feburary 2023

‘Getting quotes’ was phase one—and the first thing I learned is that most trades do not operate on the same time continuum that the rest of us do. I work a corporate job, and live and breathe by my calendar every day. Trades do not. When I agree a time with you, I create a little box on my calendar with a reminder to get me there on time. If I’m running late, you’ll get ETA updates and profuse apologies. My experience with the trades is that only 10% of them do this, and by 10% that means that only one or two of upward of 20 people I had come round to quote for various projects arrived on schedule.

The rest left me hanging, saying they’d show up, but then would silently failing to do so. I tend to work in my office in town, but would work from home to make sure I was available for them to ‘pop by’ only to find at the end of the day that my at-home availability wasn’t needed because for some unsaid reason, they’d not made it. Upon request, the trade would reply with an update saying ‘I’ll be there tomorrow’ only to rinse and repeat the scene the next day, or the next week.

Note: I’ve heard all the battle stories now and know that trades get messed around a lot by people too, but frankly I’d be willing to pay a fee if it meant I could be assured to get a visit when a visit is agreed. Time is money.

Phase two: Spa integration

The second phase, and first big project I committed to is what I refer to as the ‘spa integration.’

I used to love using the spa at the gym, and still do from time to time; but I also love sitting in silence, in my own lane, enjoying a hot steamy soak without having to engage in small talk.

I have strong opinions about bathing. I think traditional bath tubs are anything but comfortable, they’re not made to support a human body that well, and I always thought they were best shaped to serve as water or feed troughs for farm animals than relaxation spas for humans. I should disclose that I am biased about the trough thing, as my grandparents absolutely used old bath tubs as water troughs for their cows and horses back in the day 😂

The house had a claw foot tub in the bathroom, but it was in poor shape and took up a lot of space. And while claw foot tubs look nice in stylized, catalog photos of homes; they’re not that comfortable to sit in. The only tub that looks acceptably ergonomic to me are those Japanese-style barrel tubs, you sit in them in a position that’s more like a chair than a slightly inclined L-shape which is what most tubs encourage. But my bathroom was far too small to accomodate a barrel tub and a shower, so I made the decision to get a hot tub in the back garden and then change the bathroom to have only a walk-in shower.

I also have a soft spot for outdoor showering and bathing. This seems to be more of a thing in the states, in houses that are out in the country, than it is over here. But nothing beats an outdoor soak. You’ve got fresh air, the sound of the breeze blowing in the trees, birds chirping, and even if it’s raining a bit it feels nice with the contrast of the hot water in your tub. It’s the very definition of refreshing.

I could write poems about showering and bathing outdoors. So, I got a hot tub for soaking in, and found a space to install a cold shower. And this was the first thing I did, because I love myself enough to build a mini oasis so that while the rest of my house is getting ripped apart and rebuilt—I’d have a place to escape.

Phase three: bathroom renovation

Mid-Februrary - April 2023

Phase three was the bathroom renovation. Over the winter months I’d been scheming on how to utilize the space in the bathroom and create a walk-in shower. The bathroom space was awkward because of the chimney that came through on one side, and the window on the other—a walk-in shower was hard to imagine in there.

But eventually I found some inspiration online with bathrooms that had these half-walls encasing the shower. So, I came up with a design and a plan, and pitched it to a couple of trades that came around to give a quote. Two of them refused to do the job. One of them said, “it will look like a pig pen,” and then proceeded to pitch to me that he thought he should do the same type of bathroom in mine that he’s done in every other person’s house he’s worked on—I asked him to leave.

A third one, fortunately, had done a similar walk-in shower job elsewhere with the half-wall (called a ‘knee-wall’)—but due to the small space, he still needed a little convincing that it would work. All of the trades were convinced that water would go everywhere, and I couldn’t work out why—because it’s not like I’m doing flash dances in the shower, and the wall would actually be quite high next to me. So I literally prototyped the design I wanted using cardboard so that I could do a ‘water-study’ to find out and indicate to the trades that a) it’s definitely going to work and b) to give them a precise spec about where the shower head needed to be in relation to the half-wall in order to minimize splashing. The bathroom was just big enough to make it all work.

They did the job, and despite a few hiccups during the process, in the end it was exactly what I wanted and it feels so spacious in there now! The half wall acts as a shelf, and the trades built a shelf on the inside of the wall for extra storage. It worked!

Phase four: the job I wouldn’t wish on my enemies

March - June 2023

Phase four was to prep the house for plastering. The old walls were a mix of super-old plaster that was crumbling like dust and needed to be knocked back to brick, and in a few places the plaster was in better shape and just needed to be skimmed.

But the prep work for plastering was the worst job of all and one I wouldn’t wish on my enemies. The job was: removing the wallpaper.

Do those words make you want to cry? They do me. This was the job that about knocked me out. I’ll admit I didn’t do every bit of it on my own, my friends (good samaritans they are) came over to help a day or two. But if I add up the total time it took to do the entire house, head to toe, it was something like an 80-100 hour job. The bathroom work finished at the end of March, and I actually started taking the wallpaper down while the bathroom work was happening, and just kept going knowing I needed to get it all done by middle of June. I spent every spare hour I had climbing up and down the walls scraping, steaming, spraying and scraping again.

I listened to every audiobook in my queue. I listened to every podcast. Eventually I got tired of that and put the tunes back on. I experienced loneliness and exhaustion, aches and pains from all of the work. I thought my hand was going to freeze in a claw shape at one point from holding onto the scraper for days at a time.

By this point I realized that in order to get the work done, I was having to sacrifice everything. I am normally a very active person, I have a lot of hobbies and I love doing things—going for walks in the peaks, doing art, going to yoga, the gym, whatever. All of my normal Courtney activities had to cease in order to get this work done. There were no weekends to enjoy. Even lazy day activities like watching films on the sofa were simply out of the question. As I worked, more and more stuff got packed up and put away because it was just easier to stay focused on the task and get it done, than to be constantly moving things around.

And the house during the process was horrendous. It just felt dirty, and peeling the wallpaper off revealed very old, gray, beige and brown musty old plaster. It looked like something out of a horror movie, and yet it was my home—I was living in it.

The one thing that got me through this period and the subsequent periods of work was Golden Girls. After having listened to and gotten bored by audiobooks, podcasts, and music (which I didn’t even think was possible), I discovered the Golden Girls and could watch it from my laptop. Having it on became a salve—and it gave me good feelings, reminding me of being at my grandmothers house when I was little. I felt less lonely when the Golden Girls were on in the background 😂 they were my saving grace! Thank you Blanche, Dorothy and Rose! haha!

The other thing that helped was the emergence of spring. Knowing I could fit in a few little breaks to the outdoors was a huge help. I took a few days off to go camping, and made sure to go for walks around my neighborhood and local parks as much as possible.

Nonetheless, I had a deadline—middle of June—since that was when some friends and I were heading to Glastonbury to enjoy the music festival. I really wanted to be able to unplug and enjoy Glastonbury knowing that I’d finished the hardest part of the job. And fortunately, I got to do just that. The hard and dirty job got done, and Glasto was amazing.

Phase five: the plastering

July 2023

I had a couple weeks off around Glastonbury. After that, I came home and had a couple of weeks to tidy up and prep the house for the plasterers. I knew how dusty the job would be so I carefully packed everything away, storing all of my loose furniture and items like books, lamps and paintings in one room. I sealed up any rooms or closets not getting plastered with tape so everything inside would be protected from the fine dust of the plaster. A friend helped me remove the radiators.

By the time the plasterers arrived, the house was perfectly set up for them to do their jobs, and they were great. Once they got started, they did the work right on schedule. I came around every other day to see progress and it was amazing. It completely turned the house around, from this ugly old beast to this fresh new canvas.

Phase six: the floors

August 2023

With my fresh, newly replastered walls I was excited to start painting but knew I needed to knock out one more big dusty job before moving on with painting the walls. Plus, it takes a few weeks for plaster to dry all the way through. So, I decided to sand and varnish the wood floors. I rented one of those big sanding machines and an edging sander, and had a friend come over and help me out—and in a single day we sanded most of the floors. It then took me two weeks to finish everything. I used my hand-held orbital sander to get into all the awkward places and give most of the floors a final once-over before then varnishing the floors one by one, two coats each.

By the end they looked golden. What a transformation!

Phase seven: the final boss—painting

Mid September - November 2023

I finished the floors and then had to pause my handy works for a few weeks. I took a week off to rest (my wrists and shoulders were all twisted up) and to study for my Life in the UK test. September 2023 marked the moment when the UK government would be willing to grant my right to stay in the UK as permanently ‘settled’ person. So I had to get the Life in the UK test done along with starting my application. I spent weeks gulping down 3,000 years of British history in order to get through the 24 question test, so that his majesty would be willing to grant me my rights.

Anyway, after plastering and sanding the floors I just kept everything packed away—by this point it was a conscious sacrifice to not have a sofa to sit on, a TV to switch on, no guitar to pick at, or piano to tinker on—even my paintings had to be put away. I sacrificed it all to focus on this work, determined to get it all finished by the time my parents came over for a visit in November.

I’d never painted on fresh plaster before, either. In the states we always use sheet rock with small amounts of plaster to fill in the gaps. So I went to the YouTube to see how others did it. I learned about mist coating and got some good tips on using things like extension poles to paint so as to not ruin your shoulders. It wasn’t long before I found myself starting on the mist coat with my extension poles, scuttle bucket, watered down contract matt paint, and Golden Girls still on in the background to keep me company.

Thus began the long and tedious journey of coating the surfaces of the walls and ceilings—on all three floors.

This was the job that I could see so clearly in my mind. Since before moving in I had a sense of the colors I wanted in the house—I had a mood board, a rough palette, a vision. In fact if you want to read about the vision and strategy side of my home reno, I used it as an example in my article on systems thinking.

Now, I’ve painted many rooms in my life, and have always had a steady hand with paintbrushes. But when faced with three floors, high ceilings, and every single surface needing the full works—from primer to top coat—I had no idea how long it would take to accomplish. And I made things a little difficult for myself by choosing a somewhat complex palette. Most rooms would have at least 3 colors and two different types of paint—one type of paint for the walls, another for wood and metal—which meant lots of pausing, cleaning or wrapping up brushes in plastic wrap to pause on one color / section whilst unpacking, prepping and getting going on another color / section.

It was tedious. From mid September to November I typically worked 90 minutes in the morning before work, then a few days a week I’d paint for an hour or two after work; and every single weekend was filled with 8 to 10 hour days just painting, painting, painting. I had a friend come over and help for a few days too, and honestly I think if he hadn’t chipped in, it would have cost me an extra couple of weeks to do it on my own.

I didn’t quite get it finished by the time my parents arrived on the 4th of November, but it was nearly done when they visited. My parents were able to help me do a few small jobs while they were here, too, like hang curtains where the painting had been finished, and attach the fireplace mantle back to the wall. My dad also helped me insulate my cellar while he was here. By the time they left, the house was feeling more like a home, but I still had the final stretch to go.

The weekend after they departed—on Sunday the 20th of November—the very last lick of paint went on. I paused, put my brushes down, and wept. It had been almost 9 months of non-stop disruption and work, of constant chaos in my house, of spending any and all extra time and money I had on the house, and now the place was looking like my home.

I wept because of all the hard work and sacrifices I’d put in, and because the result was really beautiful—I achieved my vision. And I love it. And it was such a relief to know that I could finally start to un-pack and settle in.

The Aftermath

November - December 2023

I took a night off after finishing painting, ordered some take-away and watched a film. It was the first time I’d really sat on my sofa and watched a film and been able to relax in a long time. I really did sacrifice everything in order to focus on this house and get it done. And now it is done.

I’ve spent the last few weeks unpacking, putting things in their place. It will take some time to make the house feel complete because I still need to get in some furnishings, and at some point I assume I’ll be emotionally ready to knock holes in the newly plastered walls to hang up some art. But for the last few weeks I’ve just been unpacking, taking stock, and resting.

My plan is to lie low through the end of the year. I have never craved sitting and watching TV so much in my life 😂 it’s not normally my thing, but right now it’s what I need. To rest. To hibernate.

I’ve got some big audacious goals for 2024 and beyond, of course. But for now, well—the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since I’ve no place to go…

If you’ve read this far, thank you. I really appreciate you being here with me. And wow, did I just write that much about my house? 🙈 At least the pictures are satisfying to look at if nothing else. I can’t wait to look at this place a year from now, after I’ve had some time to add some finishing touches.

If you enjoyed this, please subscribe and share it with your friends! I’ll write again next week with more insights on the state of the art.

This post was originally published on Substack, you can leave any questions or comments over there. And be sure to subscribe!

A look inside my house: deep dive on my home renovation journey