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I was hoping that behind the grimy old wallpapers of our ‘1898 vintage’ house we’d be laying bare stretches of wonderful old textural plasterwork. No such luck. Looked like it had been done last week. However, the extensive old mends on our front reception ceiling actually had bags of charm, so we decided to let the ceiling do its thing. It’s helped soften down the newness of the painted walls and pitch-dark oak floor.
Happily resigned to occasional bewildered comments from older relatives asking why we’ve left the painting of the ceiling ’til last….

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