Friday 1 April 2022

Organised chaos

 

 


The unsuspecting kitchen. We whisper its fate as the clear-out begins


The pictures below pretty much reflect my state of mind. They also reveal a powerful truth.  We largely function along familiar lines and routine. For someone who has a fuzzy, anarchic mind, external tidiness and order is everything. Without it I’m a lost soul, drifting confused and without purpose.

 

What am I talking about? This week we began the process of installing a new kitchen. Initially I was against it until I was asked the question as to whether I’d really want to be doing this in ten- or twenty-years’ time? 


On the strength of the evidence so far, the answer is obvious. Even so, I held out for a big American Fridge Freezer as the price of my capitulation. 



The American fridge freezer hiding in the wings. It knows.



Kitchen cleared (almost) awaiting its execution.


What is absolutely staggering is how much a kitchen actually holds. By the time we had emptied every cupboard and drawer we’d turned the entire bottom floor of the house into a complex labyrinth of plastic bags and deep boxes holding everything—food—pans—cups, plates, bowls, cutlery etc. The old fridge is presently looming over my shoulder in the study.


Eating becomes a mind-game, first locating the food. After that the game increases in complexity: What are we going to cook it on? Kind friends have lent us a Russell Hobbs portable two-ringed hob, ideal for tinned soups and boiled eggs. porridge when feeling adventurous. They also lent us a slow cooker, but how to clean it without a kitchen sink?


We could eat out but not every night for three and a half weeks—the kitchen is expensive enough—so a dinner invite is a gift from heaven.


We have no water downstairs, so a simple cup of tea involves filling the kettle upstairs in the bathroom, boiling it in the conservatory, then walking through the house to the study for the milk, all the time weaving your way between mazes of boxes. This is hell in the morning when I’m barely awake. Then there’s the noise, and the dust, which despite dustsheets and closed doors, gets everywhere.


Here ends the long whine. I’m sure the new kitchen will be wonderful, and the American fridge freezer will bow gravely to its new master as I enter the kitchen. But no more blogs for the next two weeks.  I'm with the destroyed kitchen, dazed and confused.

 

Must go now. I’ve an egg to boil. 




Day one. Demolished and gutted, new cabling put in.


Day 2 more electrical work, ceiling and one wall plastered



Still deciding on paint colour to accent white quartz surfaces, pale tiles, and shades of grey units. Probably going for the Florentine Red.


The plastering finished. Drying slowly



Meanwhile, outside

Sigh. . . sorry, old friend