Many handles

Today I made a start on the chest of drawers. It was a bit involved because of the different handles. Naturally they all have holes in different places as well as different designs. Not to mention the different sizes.

Because I want the actual handles to be level, I had to mark out the faces of the drawers for each individual handle and drill the holes, before sanding them.

Fortunately it was a lovely day (not too hot but sunny) so I worked on the patio, surrounded by poodles and buzzing bees. A glorious workplace if ever there was one.

Having marked up, sanded and numbered the handles (each one has masking tape on them with a number that corresponds to a number on the back of each drawer) I started painting the two small drawers.

In order to protect the screw holes, I put tooth picks in each of them. This did look rather odd as the drawers sat in the sun drying.

Weird

Weird

Having finished the two small drawers, I set to work on the big ones, marking up and fixing handles to each one with great care and a meticulous eye for detail. I didn’t start painting them because Nicktor will need to use the bed in the Old Rose Room as that’s where I’ll be storing the contents of each drawer.

Handle #8

Handle #8

Nicktor turned up at around 6:30 and we sat and chatted about his horrid day (I commiserated and cooed at the appropriate times). I then took him through installing iTunes on his laptop so he could transfer his digital music to his iPhone.

He really has no idea what he’s doing. But, with my help, we managed to get it all working the way it’s supposed to. When he asked how come I knew how to work with Apple products when I hate them so much, I had to admit to learning it for Mirinda.

Having conquered the mysteries of technology, we went down to the Albion for a lovely ham, egg and chips dinner accompanied by a delicious hoppy and citrus pint, the name of which escapes me.

Back at home, we (eventually) watched a London gangster film called St Georges Day. It had some good moments (though I found the end a bit confusing) but will only appeal to people who like violence, swearing and long streams of sentences of made up patois, that don’t seem to make much sense.

We finished the night with the final disc of Alas Smith and Jones which included some rather surreal pieces which I thoroughly enjoyed but Nicktor didn’t understand.

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Here’s a clipped sound file of Mirinda’s interview last week on BBC London. It runs for about ten minutes.

Vanessa Feltz

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