Kitchen prior to de-cluttering.
And so it happened thus. I humped the redundant microwave to its new home in the former coal shed. It will enjoy it in there all wrapped up in plastic sheeting next to my mountain bike that has never seen a mountain in its whole life. In fact it rarely sees daylight, but that’s another story. We needed to return to the kitchen post haste. Work to do!
The rectangle of grey dust that was revealed as the microwave went on its ‘holidays’ got sponged clean and lovingly patted dry and I then went to work ripping the French imagery from my kitchen tiles. I kept one image that I might frame, that of an old chap passing a baker's shop sans obligatory baguette. Once I had done that I picked off the bits of blu-tac and sponged the tiles to a state so sparkling I could almost gaze into them and tell my fortune.
These artefacts included several French style glasses, a bowl I bought in Nice, one snowy February some years ago, a model bike with a pannier I purchased from a shop on the Paris metro, a Provençal style container for fresh garlic (or dead spiders) and a wooden pestle and mortar obtained cheaply in a sale at John Lewis’s because I was obsessed with purchasing one. Subsequently, said ‘pestle and mortar’ never got used for at least a month thereafter. I digress.
To celebrate the glorious transformation I made some Madeleine cakes. Two days later it is still looking good and I have a strange urge to start on the bedroom. I wonder if there’s room in the coal shed for a bed?