On a knife’s edge

Quests, dear peoples, never run smoothly. They’re not supposed to. That is, after all, why they are quests. But finding a new home shouldn’t really be a quest, should it? I fear the search is now on the precipice of becoming a saga. Or even a Saga. For we are entering year number 4. We had thought that we had found it. All was progressing as it should, albeit a little slowly. And then there were vanishing septic tanks, walls in urgent need of shoring up, and chimneys that were too short.

The too-short chimneys were the last straw. Too-short chimneys meant no heating. The sale collapsed. Just before Christmas. But still we had to move, as the place we were renting was scheduled for demolition. At the end of January. Argh!

Houses to rent that would find the Cat acceptable and didn’t require the sale of half the Boyfriend’s liver to fund are exceptionally rare. We eventually signed for a new place on 28 January. Phew! See, really I am not exaggerating. A veritable Quest, with a capital Q. And italics. And maybe even underlining.

Having never rented an unfurnished property before, we had no idea that we would have to supply our own curtains. Our own curtains! There was nothing for it. We would have to go to IKEA.

I’m a big fan of IKEA. Of their democratic design ethos. And of their cinnamon rolls. And because they are making a real effort to be sustainable and to improve the quality of their products so that they last. But I confess that I have been scarred by a visit to the Croydon store in my early 20s. I almost lost the will to live… for there seemed to be no way out. The yellow path went round and round, turning and twisting back on itself, no end in sight. This, of course, was on purpose.  And do bear in mind, this was before they made the handy shortcuts. Why go, I hear you ask, when we could just buy the curtains online. Well, I wanted to feel the quality of them before buying as I wanted to be sure that I would use them when we find the perfect house. And I didn’t want the environmental unfriendliness of returns. And did I mention cinnamon rolls? 

So we went with a list. And this is important… arrived just as the store opened. We had coffee… and cinnamon rolls… first. Never, ever, dear peoples, ever go shopping on an empty stomach. Shopping on an empty stomach invariably leads to an empty wallet. We were careful not to deviate from the list. We avoided the Siren calls of the room sets. We walked purposefully. We used all the shortcuts. The quality of the linen curtains is very good. We duly bought the requisite number of pairs. We came away with just one item we didn’t have on our list… a Gladom tray table in the latest colourway. This is because I think it is a design classic. And there’s always room for one more. Oh, and cinnamon rolls to cook at home. We are inordinately proud of ourselves. This worked so well we had to go back the following week to buy vegetable baskets.

“Mere colour, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways.” – Oscar Wilde

Here they are, my favourite restorations/projects of the moment, Vijzelgracht House by Bentham Crouwel Architects; Naked House by X-studio; and Container House by Måns Tham Architects. I was tickled to discover these surreal ceramics by Zoe Preece. Intrigued to read that small changes in prison food can drastically cut inmate violence, reduce self-harm and improve mental health. Certainly food for thought. And fascinated to learn that sniffer ants can be trained to detect cancer. Who’d have thought it?

I leave you with this… an absorbing film of the Dorze in the Rift Valley Mountains in Southern Ethiopia building their striking woven houses. Just fabulous. 

A bientôt