Tilly Enchanted

22 Sep
River Mersey, Stockport. Looking downstream fr...

Image via Wikipedia

 

Now that the contents of my kitchen are spread around the house like an oil slick, with every room – including all three bedrooms – doubling as a cupboard/larder/cook’s depository, I have nothing to do except recover from a week’s worth of cleaning.  I can’t believe how much dust there is in the world.  I can’t believe how much of that dust is in my house: I sliced through one dust bunny to find thirteen rings.  The grime was behind the fridge, the washing machine, the dishwasher, the microwave…I don’t know whether to clean more often or just throw away my appliances.   I discovered my lost cd player under a seal of grease and dirt.  I don’t want it to happen again so I have decided to give up cooking; my friend Becky says the simplest solutions are the best.   

The weatherman having promised today was the last warm day of the year, I took the dogs for a walk along the Mersey – though famous for Liverpool it starts in Stockport, about five minutes from my house.  It was wonderful: bumble bees buzzed in the sunlight; butterflies tangoed around my shoulder; a weasel winked as it crossed my path, then crossed back again; a blackbird gave me a command performance; a squirrel scolded the dogs; and berries in the bushes bobbed in the breeze.  As I tripped amongst the fly clouds hovering over the dog turds and flattened slugs, and avoided slipping on a mouse corpse, I felt like Stockport’s own Disney princess.  It’s quite possible that feeling will continue through the night because I’ve lost a tin of peas and my mattress is looking rather lumpy. 

  

View from a footbridge

 

My kitchen refurb began at precisely fifteen hundred hours this p.m. and ended at precisely fifteen-twenty hours.  Three men came in, laid protective floor covering, ripped out the counters and cupboards, and left.  The council promised my refurb would start on Wednesday 22nd September, and they didn’t let me down.  What they didn’t say was that they’d be working in twenty-minute increments.  It’s going to be a long, long month. 

Note the famous Stockport viaduct in the background and the famous Stockport rubbish in the trees

 

9 Responses to “Tilly Enchanted”

  1. flo September 22, 2010 at 20:54 #

    Cheer up Tilly. It took B & Q 12 weeks to fit my tiny (10ft x 5ft)kitchen! Since then we’ve always called that company Big and Quap.

    Like

    • Tilly Bud September 23, 2010 at 09:48 #

      You’re not inspiring me with confidence, Flo.

      Like

  2. slpmartin September 22, 2010 at 21:13 #

    I think doing away with cooking and eating out would not only remove the drudgery cleaning but think of all the extra space you might have…you could take in a boarder and collect enough funds for a long holiday….well maybe not…but did enjoy your post.

    Like

    • flo September 22, 2010 at 23:16 #

      I think slpmartin is on the right lines!

      Like

    • Tilly Bud September 23, 2010 at 09:49 #

      I like the way you think…

      Like

  3. Musings September 23, 2010 at 05:21 #

    I can’t wait to see photos of your new kitchen. It’s going to be so wonderful! Congratulations on finding those missing treasures.

    Like

  4. vivinfrance September 23, 2010 at 09:40 #

    2 x Ouch! Ouch for you for your prolonged suffering. and ouch for me: up at 4.45, drove to Caen. Ferry cancelled, national strike. Missed flight at Stansted, missed eye test appointment. Re-booked for next week from Paris. I bet they cancel the trains or something next week. Jock is going on the night ferry to see his family, but it was too late for me. Easyjet wanted £130 odd to change the flight, which is more than it’s cost me to start from scratch! GRRR

    Like

    • Tilly Bud September 23, 2010 at 09:49 #

      Poor Viv! Wouldn’t it have been easier and cheaper to see a French optometrist?

      Like

  5. vivinfrance September 23, 2010 at 15:18 #

    The quick answer is NO. They don’t have Vision Express/Specsavers et al in France – you have to make an appointment to see an opthalmologist in a clinic about 3 months in advance, and then pay very much over the odds for the specs at a dispensing optician. The one area of the French health service financing which doesn’t match the UK. When my cataracts are due to be dealt with, though, I shall bite the bullet and have them done in France.

    The main reason for my trip is the imminent departure to the other side of the world of my daughter et famille for four months.

    Like

I welcome your comments but be warned: I'm menopausal and as likely to snarl as smile. Wine or Maltesers are an acceptable bribe; or a compliment about my youthful looks and cheery disposition will do in a pinch.

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