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It’s only taken just over two years. I moved into the first property I’ve actually owned in January 2006, and have planned a raft of sympathetic improvements since then. Built in 1937, just in time to catch the end of the Art Deco movement, the spacious two-bedroom flat has been a cosy home.

Some of those improvements will more than likely never see fruition, but one that needed to was the repainting of the main bedroom. The flat is painted in light colours, from a beige-cream with a hint of yellow in the kitchen, through to two shades of blue, one each for the entrance hallway and the spare bedroom/study.

See the pinkness! Pink paint and anaglypta - a no-taste combination

Why was the main bedroom so in need of a colour change? It was baby girl pink, the same as the loo, which even for me was a colour too far. If it was the same off-white shade of pink as the open-fireplaced lounge, it wouldn’t have been so bad. It has taken me long enough to decide on a colour, so maybe it wasn’t that awful after all. I think I got used to it. It didn’t offend me enough when I moved in, and I think it gradually had a strangely soothing effect, and so I warmed to it.

But, I can warm to it no more, because it’s gone.

The process of what to replace it with was a long and needlessly drawn out one. I’d originally wanted to strip the (surprisingly tasteful) anaglypta wallpaper that was in each room, and coat each one in white, with a contrasting wall of deco colour. But, when we stripped the very same paper off the dining room at Nik’s house in Chelmsford, I had second thoughts of too much work and potential plaster damage, and so decided there and then to leave it on. It kind of matches the old-fashioned style of the flat anyway. Or so I kept telling myself.

Light French Grey a restful replacement (and no, I didn’t buy the light)

The replacement Light French Grey is darker than I’d envisaged, but is none the worst for that. A mixed-in-shop shade, grey with a hint of lavender blue is, I think, the best way to describe it. A Saturday afternoon’s work, and it looks great, and is a vast improvement, even making the flower-embossed wallpaper look more…French. I’m finding it more restful at night, too, and I’m almost staying awake a little more to enjoy it.

Next stop the loo. I just hope the colour doesn’t have the same effect in there.

…really is cold. The heating has stopped working. Again. And not only in the flat. Just as the weather turns colder, warmth temporarily evaded the houses in Chelmsford and Galleywood at the weekend.

They should be fixed now, and I have a plumber coming to the flat on Wednesday to look at the radiators and the semi-working wireless heating system that could be in need of replacement.

It really isn’t happy. The digital thermostat in the hallway sends a signal to the wireless receiver in the pantry, which determines if heating is needed according to the temperature reached by the thermostat.

Or at least, it should do. It’s reported an ‘alarm’ error for the last few days, which necessitates mindless and time-consuming resetting of the system, which I did almost every night last week.

Something’s definitely not right somewhere, as the supposedly technologically-advanced system did much the same this time last year. While the radiators are warm in some rooms (though not hot), others are freezing. Maybe the pump’s not working properly; the boiler certainly seemed to be when I looked last night.

I’ve never known a winter with so many people experiencing problems with keeping warm. Not that it really mattered a great deal at the weekend, as the cold stayed away long enough for fun with family visitors.

It returned in time to jump start the car, though, as lots of traffic on Friday morning had left me flustered enough to leave the lights on, resulting in a very flat battery, and an-almost tired-looking Polo, drained of any power it might have had.

But, as we were hot-footing it from house to house, and house to shops, we rarely stood still long enough for it to bother us that much (though mooching around Freeport in Braintree yesterday really was, quite literally, freezing). And with toasty showers waking us up at the house, the mornings definitely had warmth to them.

Hopefully all will soon be well (and warm) at the flat once more, too (bar the ticking radiator – which I’m assured hasn’t got any air in it), and I can stop sitting wrapped up on the sofa in the evenings. The weather’s not even properly cold yet, so I don’t want the catalogue of heating problems to get worse, costing even more to get fixed.

It’s almost enough to make to you hot and bothered.