Three readers discuss the highs and low of extending
From mousey intruders to building disasters, three readers discuss the project that almost drove them to the brink of despair...
‘We spent hours drawing up a design on the computer, then he forgot to save it. I was ready to take him out’
Vicky Fowell, a teacher, lives in west London with her husband James, an IT consultant, and children Evie, eight, and Edward, six
‘Our new home was the house that Jack built
– an Edwardian semi with a poorly constructed loft and a cold rear extension that was basically a glorified conservatory. We inherited a proper 1980s-style kitchen from the previous owners, as well as a weird lean-to with outside toilet.
‘The idea was to create a family room by extending at the back and to the side to make the space wider. Our first designer suddenly disappeared off the radar. The second came in, drew up plans, and then passed away. It started to feel like we might be cursed.
‘We spent the next five months without a kitchen, relegated to a small room where we cooked on a camping stove while our two small children battled for our attention. In the meantime, our budget stretched further and further as problems came up. By the end, we’d spent so much that another £5,000 didn’t seem to matter any more.
‘At a kitchen company’s showroom one afternoon, we grew gradually wearier as we watched a salesperson jumping up and down in a unit drawer to show us how sturdy it was. Then, after four hours drawing up a design with him on the computer, he forgot to save it. James stayed calm, but I was ready to take the man out.
‘I also spent one afternoon hiding in the upstairs bathroom with the kids, waiting for James to come home – I’d trapped a stray mouse under a box before sprinting away, terrified.
‘Throughout the build, I’d rant and rave to James, but he let it wash over him. That’s the only reason we got through it without getting divorced. The process was a bit like having a baby – you think you never want to do it again, but two years later, it feels like it was worth it.’
‘Our cat, Buzz, climbed up the scaffolding and slid all the way down the roof. We thought he was toast but, luckily, he landed in the gutter’ Ruth Stallard, a civil servant, lives in Warminster with her husband Lee, a plumber, and their son, Alfie, one ‘Lee and I bought our house shortly after we got married in 2012. It was derelict: it had walls and a roof, but the rest was grim. Initially we did up the bedroom and lounge so that we could actually live in it, before moving onto dealing with the awkward L-shaped kitchen and hideous lean-to.
‘We were terrible at making decisions. We started out with plans for a two-storey extension, but then got cautious and shied away from the idea. Eventually, Lee – who’s far less risk-averse than me – convinced me to go ahead with the whole two-storey shebang after all. The architects hated us because we kept changing the plans. We had to apply for planning permission three times, too.
‘Because we didn’t have a child at the time, it didn’t matter that we were living in squalor, although everything was covered in dust – I had to wipe my shoes off before heading to work every morning. Lee made a makeshift kitchen in the hallway, but the cooker stayed in the garden, hooked up to the gas. The lounge became a storeroom, so we ate dinner in bed.
‘Despite being constantly busy, it was a sociable time – I was constantly making cups of tea and bacon sandwiches for the builders. Lee and I both have demanding jobs and worked on the house at the weekends, so the only way we could have friends round was if they agreed to do some work as well!
‘Unsurprisingly, the tarpaulin-covered holes in the side of the building turned out to be a security risk and we had our garage broken into during the build. They stole most of the tools we were using. Needless to say, we weren’t happy about spending hours logging items for the insurance company.
‘There are a few things you’ll learn when you do a kitchen extension. You’ll pick up practical skills you never dreamed you’d have. Everything always costs more than you think it will. And finally, if you have pets, it’s a good idea to keep them under control. One day our cat, Buzz, climbed up the scaffolding and slid all the way down the roof. We thought he was toast but, luckily, he landed in the gutter.
‘We were definitely better off than most in that we didn’t have Alfie when the work was going on. It’s perfect for him now – he runs around and throws up all over our new stuff – but I have a lot of respect for people who do it with kids.’ ‘I walked into the kitchen and realised that the work surfaces were three centimetres too tall’
Natalie Mcmurtrie, a wellbeing coach and consultant, lives in Wolverhampton with her husband Paul, a recruitment manager, and daughters Elsa, seven, and Iris, four
‘Paul and I had rented for 13 years before we bought our house – a 1930s home in need of modernisation. I wanted to extend to create a treatment room for my clients as well as a space where we could eat, cook and play as a family.
‘After some early trauma involving building control and our water company, tensions were already high. But four days after our start date, our builders called us up with a problem. The foundations they’d dug and were due to fill in had been flooded with gallons of water from a broken pipe. It certainly wasn’t ideal.
‘Our kitchen fitter was tall, about the same height as my husband – who’s over six foot – and at five foot nothing, I was tiny in comparison. When I walked into the kitchen and realised that the work surfaces were three centimetres too tall, that height difference became apparent.
‘There were new challenges every day. We had to wash up in the bath and cook in the microwave. Once, I had to change Iris’s nappy on a mouldy old floorboard next to live wires in the only empty room in the house. That’s the moment I asked myself, “What am I doing?”
‘Because I was working from home, I bore the brunt of the stress and the decision-making. It put a lot of pressure on me and Paul – there were plenty of rows and tension. At times it really did nearly break us, but we look back now and laugh – we’ve got some great stories to tell.’