A New Discovery

I am a masochist, I had no idea of this before today, but it seems I am. Why else would I go to Ikea at half term ? The ninth circle of hell where parents go to loose their children, little old ladies turn into attack dogs and I empty my bank account.

This was meant to be a very quick run through, with a strict list to be followed, no deviation allowed.

2 additional shelves for my Billy bookcase

1 desk lamp

A plant

A pot for the plant

A waste paper basket

Unfortunately it appears that Ikea have changed the size of their bookcases and of course I hadn't measured mine before I left because I knew that I needed the long ones. Except the long shelves are now 80cms, not 60cms so they don't fit. I feel this adds insult to injury and I indiscriminately called down the wrath of all the Nordic gods I could think of ....

(Research suggests Baldur would be most appropriate of these deities as he was killed with a spear of mistletoe.We all know it was actually a splinter from a flat back) ...... sadly he was no help at all as I tried to ram the shelf into the offending bookcase.

And the list ? Yes, I fell off the list. In my trolley I found mini Daim, meatballs and some glasses, but that's the law, isn't it ?

No tea lights though.

My New Hiding Place part II

I am really very happy up here in my eyrie, four hours work done and I'm pleased with, ooh, 20 minutes of it.

(The 4 hours don't include the Ocado shop, the Clarks order for swaggery boots which will enable me to dress up as Johnny Depp in "Pirates of the Caribbean", the long discussion with a friend about her wallpaper - the fact I haven't seen it didn't stop me giving a considered opinion - and watching the downfall of a dictator)

My New Hiding Place

The last few months have, yet again, been spent thinking about writing, lots of thinking but not much doing and that is despite much encouragement from friends.

Finally though I think I'm ready for the off.

The house cleaning which I was using as an excuse... the I must just "wash the floor/chisel the grime from the skirting boards/remove the Miss Havisham like swathings from the cornices" tasks are at last completed. Now, I'm not suggesting we have reached hygienic levels of cleanliness, but if I said that Time Team would have cheerfully conducted a dig here you may get an idea of what I was dealing with. I have also redecorated both children's rooms, which translates as I chose the paint, made tea and generally offered unhelpful suggestions whilst husband and son did manly bonding over paintbrushes. I have designed a huge bookcase too, where I can rehome the tottering piles of books that adorn every flat surface in the house.

After all this sorting, a modern day visit to the Augean stables, my reward was to make myself a place to write, hidden away, quiet, no distractions and three flights of stairs away from the biscuits. There is a bookcase, my favourite pictures on the wall in front of me, my ipod and an ashtray.

Let writing commence