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| A Room with a View |
We’ve been fixing up the house before we put it on the market. Today, all our wooden venetian blinds were taken away by a nice man who’s going to clean and polish them.
Scotto painted the outside of the house on the lower level and we had professional painters come in and refurbish all the wooden window frames. We’re getting the wooden floor in the foyer sanded and re-polished, new carpets and having our front lawn re-turfed.
What am I doing to clean up the house? Not that much really. I did wipe down the window sills today and pulled a quick on my finger so I'm resting for a while.
We needed a new set of curtains made for the living room and Scotto noticed there was a closing down sale at a local shop so we went in after he’d recorded the window measurements.
We fronted up to the counter on a Saturday morning and the older woman behind the desk looked up at me expectantly.
“We’re looking for some curtains to be made on runners and we heard you’re having a sale,” Scotto said to her, smiling in his charmingly boyish manner.
She looked at him curiously, then even more curiously back at me. I was feeling a bit off for some reason; dull, tired and lackadaisical (that means, ‘couldn’t give a stuff’ if you’re reading this Kaz). I just stared back at her with the vague expression of someone who’d rather be set on fire than be where I was at the present time; a discount fudging curtain shop.
“The width will need to be about 2500mm and the height, 2130 mm,” Scotto continued cheerily. “We’re looking for something sheer in a cream colour.”
Again, the woman looked at me, but sympathetically this time. I think she thought either I was a bit simple or Scotto was my gay butler.
“It’s usually the woman ordering curtains, not the man, isn’t it,” I finally found the energy to mutter.
This time she appeared to be positively startled, shocked that I wasn’t a daft mute after all.
She managed to find us some suitable material and took down our order but didn’t really pay me any attention after that.
What’s my point in telling you this?
Nothing. Just that I hate curtain shops. I also hate any shop to do with storage, gardening stuff, carpet, tiles, bathroom fittings or computer parts.
Sometimes, Scotto tricks me and says he has to call in to his favourite computer shop to pick up a T.W.A.I.N. interface (that stands for ‘technology without an interesting name’ and sadly has nothing to do with Shania, true by the way).
Techno talk is so out of my bandwidth.
Occasionally I go with him, but sit in the car and stare into space, fuming, for the hour he seems to spend in there. It’s a tiny, little shop but I swear I’ve seen at least 300 people enter it while I’m seething in the car and NO ONE ever comes out.
What am I doing to clean up the house? Not that much really. I did wipe down the window sills today and pulled a quick on my finger so I'm resting for a while.
We needed a new set of curtains made for the living room and Scotto noticed there was a closing down sale at a local shop so we went in after he’d recorded the window measurements.
We fronted up to the counter on a Saturday morning and the older woman behind the desk looked up at me expectantly.
“We’re looking for some curtains to be made on runners and we heard you’re having a sale,” Scotto said to her, smiling in his charmingly boyish manner.
She looked at him curiously, then even more curiously back at me. I was feeling a bit off for some reason; dull, tired and lackadaisical (that means, ‘couldn’t give a stuff’ if you’re reading this Kaz). I just stared back at her with the vague expression of someone who’d rather be set on fire than be where I was at the present time; a discount fudging curtain shop.
“The width will need to be about 2500mm and the height, 2130 mm,” Scotto continued cheerily. “We’re looking for something sheer in a cream colour.”
Again, the woman looked at me, but sympathetically this time. I think she thought either I was a bit simple or Scotto was my gay butler.
“It’s usually the woman ordering curtains, not the man, isn’t it,” I finally found the energy to mutter.
This time she appeared to be positively startled, shocked that I wasn’t a daft mute after all.
She managed to find us some suitable material and took down our order but didn’t really pay me any attention after that.
What’s my point in telling you this?
Nothing. Just that I hate curtain shops. I also hate any shop to do with storage, gardening stuff, carpet, tiles, bathroom fittings or computer parts.
Sometimes, Scotto tricks me and says he has to call in to his favourite computer shop to pick up a T.W.A.I.N. interface (that stands for ‘technology without an interesting name’ and sadly has nothing to do with Shania, true by the way).
Techno talk is so out of my bandwidth.
Occasionally I go with him, but sit in the car and stare into space, fuming, for the hour he seems to spend in there. It’s a tiny, little shop but I swear I’ve seen at least 300 people enter it while I’m seething in the car and NO ONE ever comes out.
It’s like the freakin TARDIS! Everyone who enters is of the male persuasion, naturally. I think it must be a fight club or something. One day I’m going to sneak in and see what they’re doing in there. I suspect foul play. I think they’re all playing stupid computer games or something and laughing cruelly about their gullible wives sitting outside in the car.
It has a different time dimension as well. When Scotto eventually emerges from its seedy confines I screech in an insanely enraged voice, “What took you so fudging long, buster?” and he answers innocently, “What? I was only gone ten minutes.”
The worst thing is, I can’t even punish him by dragging him around to discount curtain shops.
Does your husband like curtain shopping? Does he make you wait when he goes into shops?
The worst thing is, I can’t even punish him by dragging him around to discount curtain shops.
Does your husband like curtain shopping? Does he make you wait when he goes into shops?
