Housey Housey programmes
For more years than I care to recall, I have been an avid watcher of programmes about houses- what Big Man calls Housey Housey programmes. There was the one with Carol Smillie and Lawrence Llewyn Bowen, where neighbours would swop keys and decorate each others front rooms. Lawrence would often insist that a Mexican theme, or French Boudoir theme should be applied, and the luckless competitor would have to smile and say how smashing it was, all the while clearly pining for her nice brick fireplace and flat screen telly, instead of badly painted purple rag rolled walls.
Then came” House Doctor,” who would tell you why you couldn’t sell your house. It was often because you had yappy dogs that savaged the ankles of your house hunters, or you had tartan carpets. Or purple rag rolled walls.
“How Clean Is Your House?” is another favourite, as the answer is always a smug “A Lot Cleaner Than That One- I Can At Least See My Carpet” .(Well, in most rooms.)
“Build a New Life in the Country” seems to involve couples driving around looking at big houses in the countryside, complete with Agas, but since you rarely find out which one they bought, if any, it doesn’t satisfy me somehow.
“Location Location, Location ” is one of my favourites. This is at least in part due to the fact that I have developed an unhealthy and slightly stalker- like obsession with Phil Spencer. I would be very happy for Phil to show me around a house and then take me roughly over the granite worktops with the Belfast sink inset. “Landlady! Really! Behave yourself!” I hear you cry. ( I also think I hear a few of you cry “Landlady! Really! Tell me more?!” but these are the voices best left unheeded, that only besmirch the good name of Island Blogging. )
I am also amazed at the budgets that the couples on Location Location have. Kirstie, bless her Prada heels, will often give a bit of a run down on the couple at the start of the programme, and it goes something like this;
“Cressida and Pablo have a budget of £400,000 to spend on their country residence, and about £300,000 for their pad in London- essential as Pablo works as something incredibly obscure in marketing.. He will return at weekend to be with Cressida at the Kent /Hampshire house. They are looking for five bedrooms,a large garden to exercise the pony, and a paddock as Cressida wants to keep pigs. ”
Five bedrooms? There’s only two of them! Is one for the blooming pony??
I notice that the couple are never called Maggie and Wee Stevie. They are never looking for a room and kitchen in Maryhill ,Glasgow,with a wee bit of back court in which to let the dug out, a black Rottweiler called Rambo.
Phil and Kirstie show Cressida and Pablo achingly beautiful properties. They have large gardens with breathtaking views, aged housekeeping staff, and granite kitchen worktops.(Oh Phil..) Cressida and Pablo find fault with the level of birdsong in the gardens, the colour of the front door knob, or even more inexplicably, tell Kirstie that it lacks “that certain wow factor” . Pffttt. Words fail me.
But my absolute favourite Housey Housey programme of the moment, is “Homes Under The Hammer”. I rush home from the gym , (or even use that as excuse not to go to the gym,) and sit with Liquorice the cat on my knee and a cup of milky coffee by my side and wait in blissful anticipation of this starting. It is deeply satisfying on so many levels.
This programme is all about people who buy houses at auction. The presenters interview them in their newly purchased house, ask them what they intend to do with it, and then revisit them to see how their plans turned out.
They always use a bit of music which has a loose connection to the house or purchaser. For example, if it’s been a GP that has bought the house, they might play “Doctor, Doctor” by The Thompson Twins every time they show this particular house on the show. This is presumably in case the viewer is distracted by, ooh, a fly landing on the coffee table . It cleans it’s front legs… oh, now it’s doing the back ones.. Argghh! I’ve completely lost the plot of this show! Who are these people? Which house did they buy??
The presenter will ask the purchaser how long it will take him to do any renovations. It needs central heating, a new kitchen, bathroom suite, and they’re going to put a conservatory on the back. Well, he says, gazing round thoughtfully, I reckon I can do it in three weeks. And the cost? oh, lets see- about two thousand pounds.
At this point I always tell Liqourice that they are talking complete and utter p**h. Two grand??? Three weeks???? Are they mad?
But, no, when they return to the house, (with a blast of “Doctor, Doctor” to help those folk who have nodded off for a bit,) the entire house is beige carpet and cream walls. The bathroom is all beige wall tiles and power showers, and the garden is neat and tidy with some nice decking. The purchaser appears to have barely broken sweat. He has come in under budget, and it only took him two weeks, with the assistance of his brother. A builder. Aha I say to Liquorice, that’s where we have gone wrong! Big Man has no siblings, and my brother is a Music Development Officer! He’s no help, is he?
( Sorry, Olly, I love you dearly though..)
Then the local estate agents come in and tell the chap that the house is worth twenty five grand more now he’s done the work. The chap looks suitably smug, and the credits roll.
The result of all this is that I feel woefully inadequate now. We have had the flat in George St since May, and have only succeeded in making it into a building site so far. The ceiling needs taken down now, which is holding up the floor tiling, which is holding up the kitchen installation. I long for beige walls, power showers, and even door knobs. I want to put up my pixie door knocker, bought from E Bay and polished up till he sparkles.
In short , I want a house. I want a kitchen. And when I get it, I want granite worktops.
November 14th, 2009 at 9:32 am
Always a pleasure to follow your posts, you have a gift for writing.
November 14th, 2009 at 12:04 pm
November 14th, 2009 at 2:02 pm
‘How Clean is your House’ is the ultimate aspirational programme for me … I am almost repelled whilst watching the ‘before’ parts’, but I love to see a wonderfully shiny square in the midst of a filthy worktop, created just with shaving foam or bicarbonate soda …!
I *love* cleaning … gives you a wonderful feeling at the end of it … So why don’t I do it so much …? I think its because of the ‘painting the Forth Bridge’ aspect - what’s the point when it will just get dirty again …!
I’m afraid I giggle out loud at people sizing up a new house … Everything is ‘nice’, isn’t it … ‘nice’ must be the most meaningless word in our language … and when I think of buying my own first house (mid-terrace, no CH, no carpets, tiny square of grass out front), I think these programs foster a large element of selfishness, helplessness and hugely high expectations … It has also taught them to rate houses more on their resale value than their liveability, which is not really a good practise, in my opinion … :- )
November 14th, 2009 at 4:13 pm
Dear Lasciviously Lovely LandLady!
I truly enjoyed your astute observations about those on the shows and even moreso about your life and humble abode.
I too like to watch those shows where folks are trying to but their dream home. Sometimes the show is in Spain, France, Italy, Australia and sometimes it’s in a desirable spot like Cornwall or the Yorkshire Dales. I generally enjoy these shows and I’m usually happy for the dream home hunters.
But lately, they’ve been doing shows where the people have a budget of £800,000 to infinity and instead if feeling happy, I feel like slapping them in the face and it ruins the show for me because I’m yelling at the potential buyers for being so picayune about some things. Why am I bad? But it’s nice to know I’m not alone in my annoyance envy.
Perhaps we devoted IB readers can send you some proper and matching pillow from the Larry Llwellyn Collection for Christmas to cushion your proposed granite inducing adventures?
November 14th, 2009 at 5:46 pm
November 14th, 2009 at 8:27 pm
you could always switch you family around so you have the right workmen
I moved into my house a few years ago and the Kitchen for me wouldn’t be a problem as I fit them for a living.. Bathrooms, electrics and painting no there’s my problems.. Although sometimes, if you want something doing… you better do it yourself 
November 15th, 2009 at 10:58 pm
If you let Carol Smillie’s group into your house you must be mad. ( out of 10 houses 9
You pose some interesting mind pics with your fantasy granite and Phil
were complete crap). Kirstie looks fat in her black outfits, and that was before being preggy
(Lucky Phil) How wide would the granite top need to be
November 15th, 2009 at 11:17 pm
Wide enough for landlady and Phil to enjoy a bit of virtual rumpy-pumpy on? So purrhaps a bit wider than average
Just keep polishin’ that pixie LL, you never know what may come of it…so to speak…
November 16th, 2009 at 12:02 am
I’ve got some second hand brass door knobs to go on too, I’ll leave it to the more quick witted amongst you to guess the jokes my nearest and dearest have been making about their restoration…
I have to agree with Harry- even allowing for the 90’s fad for stencilling everything that stayed still long enough, I was aware that the rooms were hideous. I seem to recall one contestant saying so too.
Kirstie is a delightfully curvy lady Harry! How can you??
KC- I’m guessing about a metre wide would do the trick..
November 17th, 2009 at 2:56 pm
I love your posts! I watch these types of shows in the states. I’m addicted, but I can tell you one thing, in the real world nothing comes in under budget (or even close) and NEVER within the allotted time. We had our kitchen completely redone….on TV it took a weekend and was about a 10th of the cost….in real life it took 2 months and was 20% over budget. We have begun the master bath at this point. On TV…again only a weekend….contractor tells me 8-10 weeks if all goes well and the cost is an arm, leg and the first born son. Not sure about the arm and leg, but the first born son in trade for a decent bath…..well let’s just say we can talk.
November 17th, 2009 at 5:25 pm
ALZ, I know what you mean- Lanky Boy versus granite worktops? Hmnnn- it’s a tough one..
Somebody at work reminded me about another show that has me weeping gently into my coffee- 60 Minute Makeover!( also known in our house as “chhhk a chkkk AH.” ) They get their entire house done up in an hour!!!! It’s not fair!!!!!!!( I also suspect it’s not true either…)
November 18th, 2009 at 12:02 am
Oh Landlady, this is a long and intense blog! Perhaps your enthusiasm and labour in writing such fine blogs is detracting from the energy and time spent on George Street?
I suppose all these housey type shows fall into the categoryof “Reality TV”. This is perfect doublespeak - of course they are all fantastically manipulated and lying versions of whatever may pass for The Truth in Everyman’s noggin. Even Island Blogs is closer to real life than RTV. But dear Landlady, granite tops AND brass knockers in the same blog - carry one with this sort of hot stuff and you will likely cause the demise of your favorite commentator (poetic license) through apolexy - the very thought! And please don’t comment that one doesn’t have to read it: your blogs are more addictive than “sugar”.
We recently changed all the windows looking out on the garden (all = 7 + 3 doors). The Polish team did that in two days and the painting took two more days because the first set of colours didn’t meet with the approval of Ms. Barney. This little contre-temps occured as follows. Ms. Barney had gone of on what was scheduled as a business meeting in the Basque Country (believe that who will) during the period of painting (not purple with rag whatsits). But anyway, here is yr. correspondent of an evening, keeping the home fires burning and feeling rather smug with the new paint job, and Ms. B comes in the door towards twelve of the clock at night, no doubt a trifle fatigued with her business activities, if you follow my drift, and the trials and tribulations of the return journey. She stops dead in the hall, drops her bag and very slowly - like a cat stalking its dinner - p-r-o-w-l-s into the middle of the living room, from whence she can also survey what in the Barney residence is grandly known as “The Library” (Well, where else would you put a book?). No words pass her lips as she surveys the proud new colours. No word passes her lips as she dazedly makes her way to bed. Very little is said at the normally joyful breakfast table the next day.
This was three weeks ago. The walls have got new colours. But we had AGREED on the first ones …… which reminds me of a story aabout a geni from a bottle who was asked to build a bridge across the Atlantic. He said that this was a tall order and couldn’t the nice gennlm’n who had let him out come up with something easier. “Enable me to understand women” was the next request. So the geni first sighed and then asked: “From where did you want the bridge to start, Guv?”
That was a long comment on a long blog. Les is going to have to get more server space at this rate.
November 18th, 2009 at 12:28 pm
I thought it was brass knobs, not knockers, but its purrfectly understandable that an old seadog should have more of a predilection for the one than the other…
Mrs Barney behaved with commendable restraint. One knows which side one’s bread is buttered…
November 18th, 2009 at 12:54 pm
At least she thought so.
Cats, my fanny….
November 18th, 2009 at 11:14 pm
I’m interested in how you make your breakfast table joyful, Barney, as ours is full of grunting males rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, and hoovering up my delicious porridge. My cheery comments on the weather/the day’s activities/current affairs are met with ill concealed apathy. Where am I going wrong, do you think?
Mrs Barney was remarkably restrained. I would have burst into tears, probably.Even if you have agreed on a colour, on the wall is a different matter!
And yes, there was both knobs and knockers in that blogs. No fannies though..
November 19th, 2009 at 12:03 am
Well, LL, perhaps the best approach to answering the “joyful breakfast” query would be with a practical demonstration? Obviously you need the right sparring partner to get proper appreciate for your porridge. And a rendez-vous of course.
But a fat chance you have of coming into the possession of such a practical demonstration if you, like others who shall be NAMELESS but not FORGOTTEN, continue to show such total lack of sympathy with me, your correspondent, in his Life Predicaments. I mean, you don’t know anything about Ms. B except wot I have revealed (there’s a lot more that could have been written, I promise you!) and you immediately take her side!!!
Where is your heart? Where is your empathy??? Where is your LOYALTY to your subjects?
An immeasurable and probably irreparable rift seems to have opened between us, we who seemed soul-mates in cyberspace. I feel …. crushed…. unappreciated (definitely) … unloved ( probably). O World, where is thy sting?
November 19th, 2009 at 9:43 am
In the interest of being strictly impartial, maybe you could enlighten us bloggers what the colours were? Also include a floor plan of your mansion- ALL the windows looking out to the garden number seven??It includes a library???
Awfy posh.
PS I will pencil you in for breakfast rendezvous any time you can make it.
November 20th, 2009 at 12:16 am
I didn’t like to be so forward as to ask, but am so glad landlady did. Awaiting full details with interest. Especially after having watched fpu a) blot out Maggie T blue kitchen with white undercoat, then b) paint it the wrong shade of blue twice, then c) paint it the right shade of jade thrice…
Somehow one feels comforted by other’s little tribulations!
As for Barney being the hapless painter of walls, well really LL, he got some men in, do pay attention. ‘Tis the duty of the wealthy man to give employment to the artisan…
November 20th, 2009 at 12:17 am
Why is my old phys appearing tonight? And I am ‘awaiting moderation’…let’s try a different email address and see what happens…
November 20th, 2009 at 9:54 am
OOOh, I had to moderate you KC, dunno what’s going on there…I’m all confusled, as Lanky Boy used to say.
keech brown…
Your kitchen looks a delightful shade of blue, KC, in your blog, dontcha think though that those pathetic little Matchpots are useless in imagining what a colour will look like? I’ve been caught myself with a golden colour which turned out to look like the contents of a baby’s nappy…
November 20th, 2009 at 10:30 am
No, no and definitely No, again. No plans, no colours.
Landlady’s “poodle*” is regretably unconvincing. Others did not bother, their case was obviously hopeless from the start. No floor plans of the Barney mansion, no mention of coloours - how can one describe such an incomparable eco-green, or joyous warm yellow with mere words? And how can one expect cooperation in the face of such discrimination?
I prefer to sympathise with the hapless Painter of the KC Kitchen and understand all too well his - no, Her, feelings. TWICE! No wonder we have global warming.
* “Poodle” (”pudel” in the vernacular) - what Swedish politicians do when they have publically to change their stance by 180 degrees. Pathetic but they usually get away with it when the polls come around. And KC, you’re right, one of those bouncy things with a curly coat, often black, 4 legs and a tail with a black tennis ball stuck to the end.
November 20th, 2009 at 7:32 pm
Poodle, my a**e.
November 20th, 2009 at 9:27 pm
Ehem, -
eco-green, or joyous warm yellow
Landlady, you refute yourself! “My sympathies lie with you…” yet you are obviously in league with Ms. Barney in condeming yr. co-respondent to an insensitive attitude to wall colours. What can a mature man withstand???? The future, once rosy, is bleak. But a man has to do what a man has to do … splice the mainbrace when nothing more interesting offers itself of a Friday eve.
November 22nd, 2009 at 7:18 pm
How does one pudel ones a**e?
I suppose it might be a natural outcome of splicing the mainbrace…
November 22nd, 2009 at 10:27 pm
Yes you have to be damn careful with splicing the mainbrace, I’ve heard, especially when you’re not in the first flush of youth.
Not that I’m suggesting that our Cap’n Pugwash falls into that category! No Sirree!! Nope!!! I’m sure he’s but a slip of a laddie, which I would have known if our Rendeyvoo had occurred. 
November 22nd, 2009 at 10:39 pm
Permit me to observe a discreet silence upon your effusive message, dear LL. There is a next year, you know…..
November 23rd, 2009 at 12:50 am
fraid I sympathise with Ms Barney on the subject of painting … I’m currently trying to decide what colour scheme to have in my private boudoir (admittance by invitation only) … Relaxing V Warming … taking into account colour of current carpet … and yes, I’ll be doing the work myself to benefit from the right-brain activity …
I’ve got to the stage where three walls will be rosy pastel-peach, and the fourth will be pastel green … With a White ceiling … and very possibly a new project to depict White Tara, in full repose, with bells and rings, on one of those walls … though that part will be an ongoing project …
November 23rd, 2009 at 9:59 am
I say Soaplady, if you were to just tweak the rosypeachy colour to lilac, you could be reposing in a restful yet rousing suffragette boudoir
November 23rd, 2009 at 12:01 pm
November 23rd, 2009 at 5:58 pm
I love your imagination LL. Are you all talk no action.?. Yes I know I’ll never find out. Thank God
November 23rd, 2009 at 6:31 pm
I hope that HarryD is wrong on at least two counts with his last statement.
November 23rd, 2009 at 8:33 pm
God Darling ,have you been at the whiskey again?? Listen, if ever Phil strolls into my kitchen all debonair and showing his rippling muscles… I’d… I’d… probably put the kettle on and offer him a cuppa.
November 24th, 2009 at 12:44 am
No you would not landlady! Really I don’t know what the world is coming to…Now leesten carefullee, I will say zees onlee wonce. You would get the extra virgin olive oil out, shove the air mattress on the kitchen table, turn the lights down low and…and…I don’t know where this is going…
November 24th, 2009 at 2:57 am
Is LL going to make a sald for Phil. No whisky I’m afraid , just a bit of fun.
I only pick on whom I think has a sense of humour. Did I judge wrongly again?.
Don’t say I’m in the doghoose again
November 24th, 2009 at 9:10 am
November 24th, 2009 at 2:28 pm
A little fantasy goes a long way, so I’m told. Possibly a Woman Thang, and purrhaps only if you belong to the Eyes Tight Shut School of Hoochmagandie!
Dear Harry I was more thinking LL could make a salad of Phil.
Phil McCan and Pat McCollie…
November 24th, 2009 at 5:46 pm
November 24th, 2009 at 6:57 pm
You have missed some parts out LL:grin: I meant Salad of course,I missed out a letter. and I WAS sober. I remember Errol Flyn the old late Actor was supposed to be desirable in some parts according to legend
November 24th, 2009 at 7:49 pm
because of his sword
November 24th, 2009 at 9:06 pm
Yes Taddoe, He waved it around a LOT
November 29th, 2009 at 9:21 pm
November 30th, 2009 at 11:21 pm
You were not even BORN then, I was only 7 when he played Robin Hood
December 3rd, 2009 at 10:01 am
December 3rd, 2009 at 3:07 pm
December 3rd, 2009 at 8:56 pm
You should at LEAST spell her name right LL
I and many other kids ran around with bits of stick swordfencing though. Are you suggesting or implying something there LL, strange 
Come clean, interesting
December 4th, 2009 at 7:37 pm
truthfully though, I do remember Robin Hood though I’m fairly sure this one wasn’t played by Errol Flynn, and I was a bit taken aback by the vision of a chap in tights.It wasn’t a look routinely adopted by your local Galloway males.
still at least I knew what a tree was, unlike Morrolsocks when they learned about Robin Hood and Sherwood forest in Orkney.
December 4th, 2009 at 11:04 pm
Errol Flyn was an Australian who wrote a tell all book about his leading ladies and
Of course at our age we thought the
The next week we were Roy Rogers 
I was just wondering at you suggesting I wanted to Be Maid Marian. I have been know to shed a tear at sad movies 
He made a career trying to bed them all.
film was great and we tried to copy the swordfencing
December 5th, 2009 at 4:45 pm
At last, HarryD’s feminine side making itself known to the known world. A wee bit o’ cross-dressing there, HD, to tittilate the male side of the ladies, more specifically that of LL, and satisfy your hidden needs .. was just about to write “.. your hidden knees” .. but how can one hide knees in a skirt?
December 5th, 2009 at 8:44 pm
where did I mention a skirt Barney. I have a kilt
I suppose you have never shed a tear Barney.? I better stop now before you want me in the barrel Barney.
December 5th, 2009 at 9:42 pm
December 5th, 2009 at 10:41 pm
I can’t remember saying anything about crossdressingLL, it was Barney going off on a tangent. I think I’ll drop this before I do feel uncomfortable. I did not say I balled like a baby at movies
My wife still loves me anyway.
December 5th, 2009 at 10:44 pm
December 5th, 2009 at 10:59 pm
And we love you too, HarryD, even if you’re not comfy cross-dressing. But I mean, what is the essential difference between a kilt and a skirt?
December 6th, 2009 at 3:06 am
I wear a kilt with pride. on Rabbies day.
December 6th, 2009 at 7:04 am
LL sorry to use your communication channel. Harry as usual Barney is trying on the raw prawn act. Its better to just ignore.
December 6th, 2009 at 8:47 am
December 6th, 2009 at 8:57 am
Well done, Harry!!I even wear full lenth tartan dress when dancing for inter clubs “scottish country dancing”in NZ(yes i know folks it doesnt bear thinking about!!!)
December 6th, 2009 at 12:11 pm
December 6th, 2009 at 12:12 pm
December 6th, 2009 at 4:32 pm
?Raw prawn?? Sounds tasty.
If it’s any comfort HarryD, I just got me a new kilt and look forward to airing it coming Sunday.
December 6th, 2009 at 4:51 pm
WE HAVE GOT TO SEE A PHOTO BARNEY
You might know raw prawns would cut the mustard with a semi-adopted Swedish seaman!
Seaman landlady!
Is you mixin up da bakin wid da jive, purrchance? Kool Kitz…
December 6th, 2009 at 7:20 pm
December 6th, 2009 at 7:26 pm
December 6th, 2009 at 7:29 pm
The usual, dear LL, the usual…. ssurely you are aware of the state of play with regard to such undercover matters? Cockney or no cockney.
December 6th, 2009 at 7:30 pm
Why are camels called ships of the desert?
No, no one, not even I, will publically post the answer.. excepting TWs of course. But perhaps he does not know it? It does, however, have a bearing on KC’s most recent post.
December 6th, 2009 at 9:02 pm
December 6th, 2009 at 9:23 pm
Off with his head,your maj
December 6th, 2009 at 10:37 pm
December 7th, 2009 at 10:06 pm
You are really a bit too bloodthirsty, Taddoe dearie. If she chops of me head then I can’t really tickle her pink, can I?
December 7th, 2009 at 10:33 pm
I said your head,NOT your hands
December 8th, 2009 at 10:08 pm
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hb_d0GzH9Sg
Don’t be put off by the intro
December 9th, 2009 at 7:56 pm