Tuesday, 10 January 2006

doom and despair

Yesterday, we dismantled the Wardrobe Of Despair and the Ceiling Of Doom.

The Wardrobe Of Despair has been in situ since we moved in and has clearly been constructed by someone who knows nothing about either carpentry or, indeed, wardrobes. Taking it apart was relatively easy and involved a crowbar, ten minutes with a drill and twenty minutes with a stanley knife to cut the carpet which had been laid around it down in to a rug, for the middle of the floor.

There were no doors to alternate worlds, no fauns, no fur coats, no centaurs, no christian allegory and no charming children. Just a very unpleasant piece of 1980's carpet and a faint smell of cats.

Liam The Vegetarian Decorator is coming next week to paint the room and then Polish Lodger's Girlfriend's Cousin is going to move in there, so we can rent the small room she currently occupies out to someone else - although no further news on the potential twenty year old french girl, much to B's dismay.

The Ceiling Of Doom is the last bit of the attic conversion shennanigins to come down. It's a suspended ceiling in over the landing that the builders had to punch through before they could cut the hole in the real ceiling for the attic stairs. We have been deliberating what we are going to do with it - repair it, or rip it down. Yesterday, we finally decided - rip it down.

R very kindly didn't go home and leave us to it, although he later regretted it and tried to kill me with a crowbar.

There was a minor amount of black filth and we now have eighteen inches more headroom over the stairs.

Today, the man has come to clean the carpets and once Liam has been next week, that will be that for a while. I am very much looking forward to having a house that is properly clean and not full of builders, decorators, cleaners or building, decorating or cleaning chaos.

We are all three of us sitting at the office table, drinking tea and watching the builders take down and re-build the bay window of the house over the road. It is like Abbot and Costello's Building Masterclass.

As a spectator sport, it rocks. However, it is so involving that we are running out of nice tea.

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