LIFE'S A GAS

There’s a lot to be said for having a plumber for a son-in-law. For one thing, he’s a bit more circumspect about flashing the old bum cleavage and secondly, there’s none of that chin scratching, ooh err missus that’s a day’s worth of work malarkey that you often encounter when inviting in random tradespeople to quote for your household jobs.

He’s a dab hand when it comes to fixing leaky pipes, servicing the boiler or plumbing in new radiators and what a grand job he’s done with our new super stylish vertical radiator. We could barely move the thing around the dining room yet I saw him casually lift it onto the wall brackets like he was hanging an oversized canvas. Weighing around 50 kg that’s pretty impressive!

Milano Aruba double panel vertical radiator

Wall hung with pipework chased into wall

Apparently it’s all about BTUs when it comes to choosing a new radiator. Since the kitchen has always been a cold room because of the concrete floor then I’ve gone for the toastiest model possible – the Milano Aruba double panel designer rad, a bargain from the Best Heating web site at £250 and giving out over 8,000 BTUs of lovely heat. I’m looking forward to next winter when I can cuddle up to it whilst waiting for the kettle to boil.

BOOTED OUT

It’s been a frantic fortnight of wheeler dealing in the final push to declutter before the builders move in to turn our lives upside down as Project Nouvelle Cuisine gets under starters orders.

Being a banker you’d think wheeler dealing would come naturally, but au contraire mes amis, all that ducking and diving has left me wrung out like an old dishcloth. Here I am fretting over the price of kitchen cabinet door handles when the local council has blown several million on needless road ‘improvements’ across the borough without as much as a sleepless night. How do they do it and keep a straight face? I imagine they also employ that ‘I bought it in the sale’ tactic to justify the expense to those that matter. I hope a few quid have been set aside for bananas to feed the chimps locked in the Town Hall basement that dream up these ridiculous traffic schemes. There’s no provision being made for a dedicated ‘diner’ lane in our kitchen and if I so much as glimpse any ‘humps’ appearing on the floor, I’ll be wearing builder bollock earrings that’s for sure!!

And so, there’s nothing left to sell. Unless of course anyone wants to put in a bid for a couple of ageing Spaniards (all offers considered …). Ebay and Gumtree have been my life since February hence lack of blog updates. Even a posh bird like me has had to slum it down the car boot sale with the great unwashed. (Fifty pence? What do you think this is, the great tat giveaway?)

Car booters, they’ve got a nerve haven’t they? Expecting change from a pound as you wistfully watch your treasured possessions disappear into a tattered carrier in the grip of someone who’s on the guest list of a big fat gypsy wedding. A couple of times, I almost snatched back a few items but it was only the thought of my gleaming new kitchen and the £90 pocketed that made it all bearable.

Strangely, you experience a weird adrenalin rush when getting rid of all those bits and bobs hoarded over the years. It’s like landing a 30lb cod with a homemade fishing rod and a half eaten rag worm. I’m getting Ebay withdrawal symptoms already!

A toast to the demise of the old kitchen! Here it is, stripped of all doors, bric a brac and several box loads of fossils from Kimmeridge beach.

Look no doors

Plates removed ready for French doors

Here today, gone tomorrow