Yesterday evening I received an email demanding an extra £50 from the storage people. Apparently it is a handling charge. What, for making all my stuff mouldy? There didn't seem to be much evidence of handling as far as I can make out. Anyway, I am not paying it and have handed the task over to Mr Smith. When he was supping his red o'er the osso bucco I had cooked he promised to deal with these people in the strongest terms. Good for him. Bullying women is not very nice. By the light of day he is a right pinny wearing girl. Oh you can deal with it he says. No I can't. I think a man's voice will get it all sorted in no time. Go Smithy Go. Be my hero .... for once.
Last night I went to the launch of the Unfinishable Project's book and show. It was brilliant. My one sock and unfinished glove felt proud to be part of such a great exhibit. I didn't stay long but the great thing is I got to see all the exhibits at the Knitting and Stitching show without any smelly people. I got very wet waiting for a bus up at Alexandra Palace. It's just as well I know the view is great from there because you couldn't see one inch in front of your steamed up specks.
Mr Smith has hung everything mouldy outside and opened all the doors. The place is beginning to smell less like an old junk shop and a bit fresher. The cushions required so many washes that vastly exceeded their value in electricity, soap powder etc. Some I threw away. Some are just airing. Fabreeze and sunshine are apparently great for this kind of thing. I am chucking as many of the mouldy disintegrating boxes as possible and replacing things in big plastic containers of which I have billions. I just went big with the tupperware.
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