Houseworks Step 5

The dilemma of doing anything to your home: the wreck before the reward.

Part of my Cleanest Greenest Home Series: demystifying eco upgrades, healthier materials, and smarter ways to live well inside the homes we already have.

Photo by Milivoj Kuhar on Unsplash

As I write this, I have just finished trying to bring my bedroom back to rights. Mopping away the dust. Deep cleaning the carpet. Unwrapping what’s been covered for the last month. Re-mopping away the dust. Realising that I will have to replace the carpet. But for now, I need no further intrusions. I need my sanctuary back. A sanctuary that will be warmer, and better than it was before, no question. But this is the ultimate dilemma isn’t it, the pain before the pleasure.

Yet we tend to talk about home improvement as if they are inherently uplifting. The moodboards, the materials, the promise of transformation. But we rarely talk about the in-between. The weeks where your home stops functioning as it should. Where dust replaces order, and decisions replace ease. Where the very thing that usually supports you becomes a source of friction instead.

And while this is my work, or perhaps because this is my work, I like to be real about such things, extract the learnings, and share to hopefully help. Because, even knowing what I know, home renovation still rocks on the same four fault lines, every time.

1. Do you have the time to do this? I largely work from home (mostly writing) which enables me to keep an eye on what’s going on. It means I’m here to be interrupted if they have questions. It means I’m here to make snap decisions, or offer to run out for extra timber if required. But… if you have employ that keeps you in an office, then you are literally handing over the keys to your greatest asset and returning to an unknown each evening. This can be unbelievably hard.

2. Do you have a degree of knowledge about what’s being done? I’ve done a huge amount of research, and have the resources to get answers on most other things, or trusted experts I can turn to for advice. I also trust myself. This also isn’t my first rodeo. Of course I’ve never done works on this particular house before. Neither do I have X-ray vision to see behind old plasterboard. But I know roughly how much things cost, have a pretty good gauge on how long things should take, and will not be mansplained to (a key thing to look out for when hiring in the first place — someone who really knows what they’re talking about has no need to patronise). But… most people do not have this expertise. They have to believe, and trust, what they’re told.
   

3. Are you fully aware of the impact of building work? The disruption, the noise, the mess, the unknowns, the delays. Personally, I know, and yet it still affects me — in my body. My shoulders are rigid with knots. I’m exhausted. I feel like I’m behind on absolutely everything else in my life, even if I’m not. My eating patterns are all over the place. This adds up. And I was expecting it so had already put in place the habits to protect myself: running, painting, art excursions. But… what if it’s not possible to do this? See point 1.

4. Do you have the resources to pay for the work? I bought for less than I sold, and retained my full mortgage, so for once, I had actual cash in the bank to pay for the works. Nonetheless I’ve set myself a strict budget, and considering the relative modesty of my intentions, I am not unduly fretting. Nonetheless, material costs are one thing, trades bills quite another. And we’ve overrun (in part claimed because I asked them to start an hour later, which I don’t buy at all) so there’s an extra week to pay for, and the work is only two thirds done. Plumbing took longer than anticipated and I agreed to cover the three hours to/from it takes my plumber to get to me from Brighton. All well and good if the work can be done in a day, not so great when they have to come back. It adds up. But… most projects are under quoted, always over-run (half due to no X-ray vision, half due to inefficient scheduling, and inefficient labour, my real bug bear), and cost roughly double what was anticipated. More if you change your mind about anything as you go. This can be extremely stressful as what’s the option, stop in the middle of walls coming down? Or DIY. Again, see point 1. I do sometimes joke about me being free labour, but I’m not really am I. I cost however much work I’m losing by being preoccupied hacking tiles off the wall. I also take much longer and don;t usually have the right tools on hand.

But the point of all this is that I feel like I proved my own thesis — that which I know to be true in study and repeatedly in practise — your home is not a neutral backdrop, it is an active system that affects the body. Disrupt it, and you disrupt far more than the visual.

I did all the “right” things to support myself — the running, the juices, the painting, the conscious attempts to stay regulated — and still, the impact has been undeniable. Because when your primary environment is in flux, the systems it quietly holds in place begin to falter. Routine slips. Ease disappears. Sleep is disrupted as the body stays on alert.

And if that’s the reality even with time, knowledge, and resources on your side, then we need to be far more honest about what it really takes to change a home — and why it can feel so much harder than it looks. That said, I must end with the fact that it is always worth it in the end. You just have to factor in taking proper care of yourself during the process to get there.

PS if you enjoyed this post then please do hit the ❤️ button - it shares the love by making it more visible to non-subscribers. Thank you!

BTW I have a new website that brings together all the varied facets of my world in one place — the books, the Club, my collaborations, my Amazon Shop — all now easily accessible via a single URL. Check it out! michelleogundehin.com