For the past couple of months I have been flailing. There’s no more dignified word I can use to describe it. I dislike change – if it isn’t actually broken I see no reason to mend or replace it. Why wallpaper when bookcases and paintings cover the walls much more cheerfully? Why replace tried and tested systems at work with something described as ‘dynamic’ and ‘use friendly’ that actually takes 4 times as long? I grieve when a pen runs out and has to be discarded. Silly, I know, but that’s the way I am.
So you can imagine my horror when I was told that my kitchen didn’t just have to be redesigned but the whole building had to be demolished. It wasn’t a fancy kitchen – it was shabby and battered and leaked a bit but I knew where everything was and everything sort of worked. I convinced myself that dodging drips when it rained was good exercise. But the leaks got worse and we had to bite the bullet.
Over the past week we have gone from this:
And now there’s a big hole:
But OMG the toys!!
Unfortunately I haven’t managed to get the builders – 2 twenty-somethings with no discernible body fat – in shot. But I’ll keep trying.
So – as I meant so say – if I’m a bit distracted or distraught – this is why and I apologise for it.