Furniture

Home early from work to make a start on the enormous flatpack wardrobe with its heavy smooth-sliding panelglass doors. A start was all it turned out to be. Even with two pairs of hands it was impossible to manoeuvre bolt and bang the frame into shape with two tots eagerly bouncing around the assembly site.

Instead you pieced together the couch and moved a few boxes around. The house still claustrophobically cluttered. The ground floor in particular, like a discount furniture warehouse. Several cumbersome cabinets from more spacious rented accommodations in the past, jammed into the living room awaiting disposal.

 

On didi’s hotdog

a squirt of “ptrrrrrp!” That’s ketchup

to you and me

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