Sitting pretty

Many years ago, we bought a lounge suite. It included an armchair, a two-seater and three-seater lounge and the dreaded, giant, pouffe. When we bought it, I tried to get the salesman to keep the pouffe but he insisted we take it. For the last few years, it’s been buried in the back of the lock-up.

Back in November, we ordered our new living zone furniture. Two recliners and a lounge (which is called a ‘love seat’ because it’s a bit bigger than a two-seater and not as big as a three-seater), all in leather. And they were due to arrive this afternoon.

The furniture company was going to take away the old suite so first thing (well, second thing after shopping), we went up to the storage place and I extricated the horrid pouffe. On Wednesday I’d spent a few hours excavating the armchair (it was buried in the Cooler), which was already ready.

We thought Day-z would instantly lay claim to the pouffe given the many hours she spent asleep on it when we lived at Haslemere, but she wasn’t that interested. It could be because it smelled of sandalwood but who knows why Day-z does what she does.

We spent our last lunch reclining on the old suite, watching an episode of Fargo and then the delivery guys arrived. They managed to time their arrival during a lull in the almost persistent rain, which was a very good thing. They then had to work a bit of a shuffle as the new came in and the old went out. Having the path down the side of the house came in very handy.

And, after a long hard slog, we eventually had the living zone Mirinda envisioned…complete with token dog on the rug (which is also new).

The day was finished off with a delicious cottage pie (Waitrose didn’t have any lamb mince for a shepherd’s pie) and a honey cake.

Yesterday, I asked Mirinda what she’d like me to bake today and she said honey cake with frosting. I’ve never made frosting before but found a recipe and went for it. The result was extraordinary. The size of the cake doubled with white peaks all over it. And, while it was sweet, it wasn’t sickly and the addition of rose oil tempered the sugar…a bit. Suffice it to say, it was pronounced perfect and was thoroughly enjoyed.

We then spent the night watching more Fargo but now in our new recliners. Bliss.