Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Bleached oak .
Easter should be weeks away. But, it isn't . Time to panic . Madame Bay rushes around , a paisley turbaned whirl of activity . The bedrooms on the ground floor attacked with vigour and a bottle of Jif . '' The font '' heads off shopping .' Should we buy leg of lamb for lunch ? '. I suggest an ox . Air France choose the Easter Holidays for another strike . Wilf snores happily away oblivious to the activity around him .
No sooner does ' the font ' drive off than the builder arrives to discuss a new kitchen. Not any builder but the one with the large, shiny, black , low slung Mercedes estate. The builder everyone says is very busy and has a waiting list for the rest of this year . He looks at the kitchen . '' You'll be needing a new floor " . ' No we won't ' replies Angus, suddenly understanding why the man drives such a large, expensive, car . How many builders wear a suit and tie ?
Two hours later the builder finally goes. He promises to return with a design . Two mind numbing hours of discussing bleached oak work surfaces and uneven floors . Angus asks how much it might cost . Angus listens , swallows, and then asks for the number to be repeated . '' Of course that's without the white goods or fitting " adds the builder . Wilf sleeps through everything . Sensible boy . ' The font ' returns from shopping and asks how the meeting went . ' Swimmingly ' I reply, not altogether truthfully . ' He's suggested bleached oak '.
This morning in the supermarket a bag of caramel flavoured crisps. A taste adventure too far ?. Wilf gets his half croissant at the cafe under the arcades .