This is my new island. It’s a bloody big one. If you stand at one end you need semaphore to ask someone at the other end to pass the salt. Husband is having depraved thoughts which seem to involve me sliding my derriere across the induction hob. Best move the knives first.
We seem to be getting there. Week 5 has consisted of the floor tiler and the decorator dancing round each other. Today, however, I have had men flocking round me. The carpenter came to finish the plinths, the electrician turned up to do the remaining sockets but they have had to work round the decorator who has covered all the surfaces with dust covers. I think the tiler has been shoved in the pantry to get out of everyone’s way. It’s happy chaos.
As I type, the big kick-ass American style fridge-freezer has arrived. There are five men huffing and puffing as they try to lift it up the steps and through the French doors. To me…to you…to me…to you. I can’t look. This is the item Rory has been waiting to see for over a month. I reckon there will be much slush-puppy-making going on with the crushed-ice machine. My worry is that this is a huge wodge of stainless steel which is going to show up every finger mark. And I’ll have to find somewhere else for our collected fridge magnets to go – if the family think they are getting put back on this beautiful beast, they’ve another think coming!