Fuddland

That’s how the carpet-fitter greeted me when I opened the door to him this morning. And, what’s more, he was wearing odd shoes: one brown slip-on, and one grey lace-up. It’s a fantastic way to introduce yourself — you’re instantly laughing and joking with one another. I think I might start doing it on purpose.

I’m always a bit awed by professional carpet-fitters. They bring in the rolled-up carpet, close the door, bang around for a few minutes, and presto! New floor-covering in place! It’s like magic. No cries of despair from cutting away too much; no dodgy off-cuts zig-zagging around an awkward mantlepiece corner. He did the lounge carpet as well as putting new lino in the kitchen and bathroom single-handedly in about an hour and a quarter [including right under the cooker — which surely means he has powers of levitation?]. And he only required two cups of coffee for fuel.

Disappointingly, there were no old newspapers from 1963 under the original carpet, but it looks as though the room used to have bare floorboard at one point, as they had regions of painted flowers dotted here and there.

I’m under strict no shoes instructions from now on, upon pain of death. Well, perhaps not death. But certainly a soul-destroying tut-tutting if I so much as think about walking on the pristine beige surface in my grubby old trainers. And I’ll be drinking my red wine from a toddler’s no-spill cup from now on.

#1

clair | 2005 / 01 / 20 – 13:59

I like the flowers :)

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