Remember a simpler time, when we regarded our houses as places to get away from everybody, rather than investment vehicles? When a chill-out zone was two bean bags and a plastic Buddha? When a man in an open-to-the-waist floral shirt could be a sex symbol to a nation? Remember, is what I’m getting at, Changing Rooms?
So I got the door back and it was totally the wrong blue. I was after navy blue, like my handbag and so I just spent a morning finding it in my local great paint shop (in West Norwood) to paint over the wrong blue.
I’ve lived in my house for ten years and for about five of those I’ve thought “maybe we’ll move”. Since this could go on some and because I will not stop wanting to paint things, we’re finally buying a new front door. We’re keeping the stained glass sections, but the replacement door will be navy […]
Well hello. It’s been a while. I have been away in Corfu, reading a gaiety of post-apocalyptic fiction, including The End We Start From. I recommend this short novel to anyone, and its observations of having a young baby amid an environmental catastrophe are touching, frightening, and also frequently funny. When the narrator muses that […]
This morning I had a meeting in Elmers End, Beckenham – not that far from Croydon. I was a bit early so I spent the journey there craning out the car window in search of the sort of cafe that might sell a flat white and a pastry to a London ponce. I’m delighted I […]