At the weekend we decided to turn the space we pretentiously call 'the study' into something more than a dumping ground. It's an internal room, tucked between the sitting room and kitchen, with borrowed light from the latter. To make the room less cavernous, we took a trip this morning to the two architectural salvage yards in search of a glazed interior door. What delights these places are, especially on a day of incessant rain and dreary white skies. It would be easy to become as addicted to shopping there as it is on a high street. My partner, most judiciously, limited my time drooling over Victorian tiled fireplaces and wrought iron bits and bobs.
We found a six paned door for £30, and some attention from a router will give the glazing panels the appearance of the moulded versions characteristic of older doors. In fact that's what's been happening in our rented lockup in Portobello for the last eight hours (by the practical one of this partnership).
What more could one ask for apart from copious amounts of chocolate - and the design of properly ash-resistant aircraft engines (ref. this evening's documentary on channel 5) and piping of all the water we don't need in this country to the countries which do need it?
Mondayishly yours,
Jane
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