Well, no more. The flat has taken a big step towards the vision Best Beloved had for it prior to agreeing to marry me.
We have shelves in the airing cupboard.
We have cupboards in the kitchen
Not all with doors attached, yet, but give us time. And the piece de resistance ...
... a clothes airer hanging from the ceiling in the bathroom. Also good (according to the catalogue) for the display of pots and pans plus sausages, dried hams, dead pheasants etc but that would be unhygienic.
Now we just need to wash some clothes to hang on it. The suspense is killing me. (Get it? Suspense? Because it hangs from the ceiling and ... never mind.)
Is your clothes airer a Sheila Maid, by any chance? I spent a substantial part of my year off packing those into boxes in a warehouse on a run-down industrial estate in Lancashire. It was kind of bleak, but I learnt that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life packing things into boxes. I also got pretty good at using a Stanley knife and a staple gun. Might come in useful one day.
ReplyDeleteYup, we accept no substitutes. Sheila Maid it is. Sounds like your year off taught you some valuable lessons, young lady.
ReplyDeletePheasants hung from the ceiling of my shared kitchen in 1968. They belonged to a fellow student, who ran something called The Trinity Foot Beagles. He was much more civil and pleasant to me than vice versa, due -- I perceive retrospectively -- to good breeding on his part and tiresome political correctness on mine. Anyway, they didn't smell at all, to my surprise. Put you off the cornflakes a bit, but otherwise no bother, dead pheasants.
ReplyDeleteNice to see that you're happily hitched and droll as ever. We used to work together at Woodside and I'm catching up on this blogging lark -- reached you via Joella.
Ah yes, I do remember! Welcome on board. Be warned, this blogging lark can be highly addictive ...
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