Having made the worrying discovery there are 211 books under my bed, and others have escaped and are re-colonising the staircase only months after a major purge, I felt it was time to do some tidying. This may, or may not, include rehoming the De-
icer I found under my bed, (hate to think what Freudian overtones that may have). Socks have been paired, nasty, nasty tangles of hair caught and released back into the wild and shoes lovingly replaced back in their boxes. Please note that nothing of any housewifely worth has been done. I can see out of the windows so they obviously don't need cleaning, there are no horizontal surfaces for dust to collect anyway and I shoved all of the "don't know where to put this" items into the ever useful ottoman.
icer I found under my bed, (hate to think what Freudian overtones that may have). Socks have been paired, nasty, nasty tangles of hair caught and released back into the wild and shoes lovingly replaced back in their boxes. Please note that nothing of any housewifely worth has been done. I can see out of the windows so they obviously don't need cleaning, there are no horizontal surfaces for dust to collect anyway and I shoved all of the "don't know where to put this" items into the ever useful ottoman. I did however take a hard stare at the shelf behind my bed - my take on a bedside table - and felt it deserved the itemisation normally given to handbag contents........ go on, make me feel better about my slovenly habits - please.
There is a radio, books I am currently reading and sufficient medications to stock a hypochondriacs pharmacy. There are also my hoard of little books, ones that say its ok to be curved, how t
o be chic, how to shop, all the useful stuff , bits of jewellery including amazing sparkly stars from the V&A, nail files, ointments, unguents and potions all promising me the world if not eternal life, yummy Paul Smith perfume, yes, you can see a box of Opium talcum powder, how retro is that ?, assorted vials of perfume from The Perfumed Court and my sons ticket from last years Leeds Fest. Sadly, you can also see the coffee splashed up the wall courtesy one of my daughters cats who had decided it, too, needed coffee. When I get breakfast in bed, it is to share ! No, the dog does not sleep on my bed, he doesn't even know about upstairs, and you are not to tell him !
o be chic, how to shop, all the useful stuff , bits of jewellery including amazing sparkly stars from the V&A, nail files, ointments, unguents and potions all promising me the world if not eternal life, yummy Paul Smith perfume, yes, you can see a box of Opium talcum powder, how retro is that ?, assorted vials of perfume from The Perfumed Court and my sons ticket from last years Leeds Fest. Sadly, you can also see the coffee splashed up the wall courtesy one of my daughters cats who had decided it, too, needed coffee. When I get breakfast in bed, it is to share ! No, the dog does not sleep on my bed, he doesn't even know about upstairs, and you are not to tell him !Progress has been made in the garden though; I've been out into it ! It is still there ! I ca
me back in as sunshine in Yorkshire is something of an illusion, it does mean light, it does not necessarily mean warmth, but maybe next week .
me back in as sunshine in Yorkshire is something of an illusion, it does mean light, it does not necessarily mean warmth, but maybe next week .And just to prove that sometimes I do tidy up - the dining room, the only book free zone in the house is now cleared. Some weeks ago I listed the items on the table, the rummel that had relegated us to eating off our knees. It has gone, yeehaw, but we are still not going to be eating like civilised human beings as I have plans.... I have scarlet/shot black silk and I feel the need to make a Vivienne Westwood style slightly bustley, certainly rustly skirt, updates will follow but I fear that it will all end up under the spare bed, home to all the other unfinished projects. (And yes, they are Christmas decorations on the light - ready for next year !)
