If there’s one thing I enjoy doing, it’s moving the furniture. Plotting future moves is almost as much fun.
Earlier this year I cooked up a delicious plan in which work desks (2) would be moved out of the living room into the kitchen, and the dining table would be moved into the living room, where it could enrich its life by doubling as a sewing table, writing table, games table, etc, etc, without being surrounded by cold air (the kitchen faces south-east) and the smells of cookery.
There was just one hitch in my plan.
An overbearing townie wants to buy Pippi Longstocking’s cottage and pull it down. What will she do?
Without delay, she seized the fine gentleman about his fat waist and threw him up in the air, twice. Then she carried him at arm’s length to his car and threw him into the back seat.