Good afternoon Negative Soundbyters and a very Happy Easter to you all! I am sitting in our new extension writing up this week’s post while Mrs H rustles up some Easter scones at the kitchen island. I will make myself useful when the time comes by retrieving the jam from the cupboard but only on Mrs H’s say-so. The new kitchen is a strictly controlled zone where everything has its place including husbands!
[As a quick aside to this opening paragraph I have since had said scones with liberal dashings of cream and jam. It’s fair to say that Mrs H makes a mean scone although we did have a debate between ourselves as to which is spread first – the jam or the cream? I don’t mind either way as long as I don’t put the jam spoon in the cream; that is bound to raise the ire of Mrs H!]
Any events of geopolitical significance to report?
The Donald has been at it again this week. The US OF A dropped the world’s largest bomb on Isis militants hiding in some mountains in Afghanistan. One minute you are having a cuppa in your cave plotting the downfall of Western civilisation and the next you are literally vaporised by 11 tons of explosive. That’s the equivalent of a London double decker bus falling from the sky minus the death and destruction. The Donald is now eyeing up another lunatic with an interesting hairdo – Kim Jung Jing Jong the Third. It was the birthday of the Founding Father of the “modern” North Korean State and Little Kim had arranged for practically his entire armed forces to be on display for to mark the event just to let The Donald know that he wasn’t going to be bullied in his own backyard. In a further show of defiance Little Kim subsequently launched a missile that blew up just seconds after launch. Back to the drawing board on that one Little Kim, although it’s likely that all engineers involved in that missile programme are now eating saw dust in a labour camp. That’s how Little Kim keeps his people motivated. Eish.
Anyway let us move onto happier thoughts with this week’s anecdote.
Big Easterly Love to you all.
Hoddy X
I had barely opened my eyeball on the Easter weekend and Mrs H uttered a word that generally strikes fear into my heart, “IKEA”. Now on religious holidays I generally try and stay true to my spiritual self by doing as little as possible. Sleeping late, having one of Mrs H’s sumptuous breakfasts and then sitting with a book outside on our new deck with a steaming cup of coffee and an Easter bun – that sounds like the way to spend a productive long weekend. Traipsing around IKEA holding one of those blue carry-all bags and filling it with coat hangers and candles – not so much.
So I closed my eyeball and pretended that I hadn’t heard that dreaded call, easing out a low snore just to emphasise that I was still very much asleep. But Mrs H didn’t fall for it – no Sir. Even pulling the duvet cover over my head didn’t have the desired effect. Gingerly I opened both eyeballs simultaneously and before I knew it I was confronted with a list of the things that we were going in search of. There was no turning back. Nope. That morning I was destined for IKEA.
Everybody needs to experience IKEA. It’s truly ingenious. You arrive with nothing and you can leave with the contents of an entire house – all flat packed into neat rectangular cardboard boxes. The only drawback for me is the assembly part. As much as I try and follow the instructions, invariably I end up with nuts and bolts left over and drawers that shut, but only if I give them a bit of a nudge which is not what the Swedish designers intended. Therefore Mrs H is responsible for assembly (as we witnessed in Edition 20) and I make cups of tea and break down the cardboard boxes. Simple jobs for simple folk!
Down to the IKEA in Croyden we went. Families were arriving en masse. I think some treat it like a day out. It’s a lot cheaper than Legoland and there is enough furniture for the kids to climb on to keep them entertained while you have a Swedish meatball and decide whether you need another picture frame made from Nordic pine. And there are no short cuts even if you know exactly what you want. The store is so designed that you start at one end and weave your way through the various departments until you reach the pay points. So you might just have come for a chest of drawers and you end up leaving with at least 10 scented candles, 50 coat hangers (my personal favourite), 5 Nordic Pine picture frames, a lamp shade and a fake orchid. It is impossible to visit IKEA without purchasing something.
Thankfully Mrs H was on a mission and we – sorry she – knew exactly what she wanted to buy for the baba’s nursery. I nodded in agreement at the appropriate times when discussing cupboard dimensions, carried the blue bag, managed to get my coat hanger allocation in, and put on a brave face throughout. And survived to tell the tale.
Truth betold it’s not all that bad. It’s designed for simpletons like me and they even have a service where they will deliver the goods to your house and assemble onsite for a fee. We opted for this; I think Mrs H is tired of witnessing the blood, sweat and tears exhibited every time I attempt to build a piece of furniture!
OUT.
Pic of Week:
This from a lovely botanical garden called The Rookery just 10 minutes from my front door in Streatham.
