I've been working a lot lately, and DH hasn't, so he's been busying himself. If the weather were better, he'd been busying himself finishing the paving (almost done now, but we've put the cement mixer away for the winter). He's turned his attentions to the attic.
Some time ago, the loft was bursting at the seams, not least with numerous bargain rolls of insulation. I popped up there, did a minor bit of clutterbusting, and managed to clear some of the floor area in a relatively short space of time. DH and I agreed we'd do some more when the weather meant playing outside wasn't possible.
A couple of weeks ago, DH started doing a bit of clearing. It went well. He didd some more. Then we decided we needed more shelves up there (our clutter is well organised), so a trip to Ikea was needed. DH went to Ikea on his own. That is a statement of such magnitude, I think I need to say it again. DH went to Ikea on his own.
I have a love-hate relationship with Ikea. Some of there stuff is just old tat, some of it is very practical. Some of it, like the shelving, is exceptionally good value and we'd be hard pressed to buy the wood for the price of the shelves. Our loft, utility room and sheds are all kitted out with the same shelving. I hate going to Ikea. It's a horrible journey, I hate being in Ikea. The queues, the out-of-stock in spite of checking the stock checker before leaving home.... usually I go onb my own, as a joint trip inevitably ends in a row. Or a Silence.
I can pack a humungous amount into my little hatchback, I once stopped at Ikea in Edmonton on the way back from visiting DD, and got enough Billy bookcases, with extra shelves and glass doors for each bookcase, to line the sides of two rooms.
I digress.
DH went on his own to Ikea. He bought the extra shelving, came back, and fitted them. Insulation has been put down. Many trips to the tip, including the sad goodbye to some rather large tiled-offee-table speakers that DH made some 35 years ago.
It's my turn today to go and sort through boxes and be ruthless.
Some time ago, the loft was bursting at the seams, not least with numerous bargain rolls of insulation. I popped up there, did a minor bit of clutterbusting, and managed to clear some of the floor area in a relatively short space of time. DH and I agreed we'd do some more when the weather meant playing outside wasn't possible.
A couple of weeks ago, DH started doing a bit of clearing. It went well. He didd some more. Then we decided we needed more shelves up there (our clutter is well organised), so a trip to Ikea was needed. DH went to Ikea on his own. That is a statement of such magnitude, I think I need to say it again. DH went to Ikea on his own.
I have a love-hate relationship with Ikea. Some of there stuff is just old tat, some of it is very practical. Some of it, like the shelving, is exceptionally good value and we'd be hard pressed to buy the wood for the price of the shelves. Our loft, utility room and sheds are all kitted out with the same shelving. I hate going to Ikea. It's a horrible journey, I hate being in Ikea. The queues, the out-of-stock in spite of checking the stock checker before leaving home.... usually I go onb my own, as a joint trip inevitably ends in a row. Or a Silence.
I can pack a humungous amount into my little hatchback, I once stopped at Ikea in Edmonton on the way back from visiting DD, and got enough Billy bookcases, with extra shelves and glass doors for each bookcase, to line the sides of two rooms.
I digress.
DH went on his own to Ikea. He bought the extra shelving, came back, and fitted them. Insulation has been put down. Many trips to the tip, including the sad goodbye to some rather large tiled-offee-table speakers that DH made some 35 years ago.
It's my turn today to go and sort through boxes and be ruthless.
