Heady times here at Eumundi Grand Designs (yes, I'm waiting to hear from Kev's lawyers), with the Dream Kitchen briskly taking shape. Even hauled the stove in this week - and been cooking up a storm - so these photos are already rather stale. Yet still delicious enough to eat, don't you think? For me, floorcoverings work magic: they can turn a dismal building site into a warm and cosy nest overnight. And when the floorcovering in question is Marmoleum - woodgrain Marmoleum, I might add - well it's enough to make this here pussycat curl up in a corner and purr.


How lovely. Just like a giant-sized checked gingham tablecloth - only woodgrain. Makes me want to sprinkle it with daisies, and set up a picnic on the kitchen floor, with cushions and a thermos of steaming tea, and some egg and lettuce sandwiches.
As is customary in this marriage of design obsessives, Phil and I entered into some long drawn-out hemming and hawing over colours. But I'm so happy with the result  - reminds me of a slab of chocolate, with big fat squares of 70% cocoa, 30% cocoa, and creamy milk white. Yum. And goes rather prettily with those Norwegian wood cabinets, don't you think? Okay, Ikea Birch veneer ...


If you haven't heard me banging on about Forbo Marmoleum before - well some might say you're lucky.  But yes if you haven't, go check out Jas and Phil's fabulous studio floor design. You'll also find a few technical details, plus more of me raving. I've been a devoted fan of this beautiful, hardwearing, sustainably manufactured product for years, and would love it even without its impeccable environmental cred.

By the way, these are not tiles. Forbo does indeed make  a stunning range of solid colour tiles - Marmoleum Dual. However, for those of us in Australia they're only available in 5 square metre lots (per colour), which makes for a fair bit of wastage. Besides, I had my heart set on woodgrain, so simply bought rolls and had it cut into squares - which, after the complexities of the studio floor, was more or less a breeze for the trusty David Hayden, one of the chirpiest floorlayers you'd ever have the pleasure to meet.


There you are. Evidence of in-house dining - or at least, coffee drinking. But what seems here a rather bare and lonely space now echoes with the sounds of running water (gasp) and the clatter of pots and pans. It boasts cookware and cupboards and a big shiny stove - and the heartwarming smells of dinner a-simmering.