Surely, this is not a mantra to live your life by.
But as the unemployed among us will know, dear Petey has brushed off his six pack and launched his own daytime DIY show. Which looks suspiciously like he's ripped that old 60 minute make over programme from Claire Sweeney's jazz hands, and prit-sticked his name and face all over it. Anyway, as usual, I digress.
We have moved to Portsmouth!
The reasons were numerous, the timing less than ideal, and the flat was barely functional.
The old tenants (from hereon referred to as "chavs") had left it in a less than favourable condition.... From Cat pee to Nicotine stains.. they'd left their mark. Quite literally.
The ideal, that i would immediately start baking in this heavenly spacious kitchen that i could actually move in (previous kitchen was actually a kitchen cupboard) was quashed, or was it squashed? (must look in to what that extra S does) when we realised the oven didn't work.
So instead of approaching the situation logically and replacing the oven. We began to rip down the kitchen. My logic and succinctness clearly go hand in hand.
As much as i enjoy knitting, and icing cupcakes, and generally emulating the activities of your average pensioner (see previous blog), i thought: you know what? I'm going to give manual labour a go, how hard can it be?!
Stop laughing and put your eyebrow down.
But as the unemployed among us will know, dear Petey has brushed off his six pack and launched his own daytime DIY show. Which looks suspiciously like he's ripped that old 60 minute make over programme from Claire Sweeney's jazz hands, and prit-sticked his name and face all over it. Anyway, as usual, I digress.
We have moved to Portsmouth!
The reasons were numerous, the timing less than ideal, and the flat was barely functional.
The old tenants (from hereon referred to as "chavs") had left it in a less than favourable condition.... From Cat pee to Nicotine stains.. they'd left their mark. Quite literally.
The ideal, that i would immediately start baking in this heavenly spacious kitchen that i could actually move in (previous kitchen was actually a kitchen cupboard) was quashed, or was it squashed? (must look in to what that extra S does) when we realised the oven didn't work.
So instead of approaching the situation logically and replacing the oven. We began to rip down the kitchen. My logic and succinctness clearly go hand in hand.
As much as i enjoy knitting, and icing cupcakes, and generally emulating the activities of your average pensioner (see previous blog), i thought: you know what? I'm going to give manual labour a go, how hard can it be?!
Stop laughing and put your eyebrow down.