This week I’m unveiling my awesome cow shed. It was a bit gross when we moved in three months ago. Now it’s fricking party-time and I’m going to show you how it went from yuk to yay with a bit of help from Out There Interiors.
See? Isn’t that horrible?
Not a fun place to hang out. The previous owners had big plans – they turned the cow shed into a games room, complete with wood burning stove and snooker table. Then they decided to get divorced and sell us their house. (Hurrah! Thank you, the modern convenience of divorce!) They didn’t give their games room much love once divorce was on the cards. Hence the mould, grime, spiders, rot, sludge, damp and dust.
Fun times for us!
What a depressing selection of booze lined up on a shelf covered in cobwebs, I hear you say. I know. If only we could make ourselves a bar.
And so we did. First, you take one mother and set her to work, not giving her any tea or biscuits till she’s damn well painted an entire wall:
Add one ex-nearly-step-mum (it’s complicated) invited up for the weekend under the illusion it would be all country walks and open fires, when in fact I just wanted to include her in the memory I was creating entitled ‘Turning the Cow Shed into a Competition Den.’
Walls successfully painted, damp successfully covered up and forgotten about, we got cracking with the fun stuff. First things first. This is a house of incredibly competitive amateurs. A points board was erected, in order to know when we’re winning.
Drawings by my nephew, the little legend:
We put the mother-in-law to task making these old bar stools look appealing for bottoms. They were covered in cobwebs when we moved in (they’d been left behind, along with a chainsaw we’re currently figuring out how to use) and the fabric was a depressing shade of green I’d call Misery Green if I was Dulux. M-I-L is crafty with a sewing machine, thank goodness, because my sewing machine hasn’t had a run since I tried to make a triangle of material four months ago. M-I-L made the bar stools look like this:
As for that sorry looking line up of bottles… we took to Ebay to source wine boxes (usually about £10 each. We found someone selling 25 boxes for £40. Collection Only – a surefire way to pounce on local gems.) Then we stacked the boxes and ta-da – the ‘bar’ is complete.
After that, it was all about the finishing touches. My favourite bit. The bit where you get to put inanimate objects all over the shop.
A deer head. Because big rooms need deer heads to make it feel like you’re a hunter.
But because I’m a conscientious deer hunter, mine isn’t made from a dead deer, it’s made of silver stuff and I got it from this brill website full of things I want to fill my house up with.
A hat my sister made my husband:
A wedding gift we’d yet to enjoy hanging on a wall. In our previous, rented, home, we were not allowed to hang things on the wall.
My grandfather’s commemorative oar, for rowing the Thames in 1930.
And art. A little bit of art, cos we’re right classy. This is some art we’ve got on the wall:
And we’ve got this art too. These artists are both from Bristol, the happiest place in the UK to live, it was announced shortly after we moved away.
Did I mention we’ve got guns? Because Gaz got jealous of a 12 year old he saw on TV who had a BB gun. His parents had confiscated his BB gun when he was 12 and he clearly wasn’t over it. So now he’s a grown up he went and bought himself a BB gun and no one even stopped him. Sometimes he prints out pictures of people I don’t like so I can shoot them in the face. He’s a good husband.
And that’s it – how to turn a run down cow shed into fricking party-time. Rope in a lot of people, slather on a lot of paint and sprinkle with finishing touches.
Wanna come play?