Thursday, May 5, 2011
Ruby Murray and the Horrifyingly Hirsute Home
So I've been coaxed out of my cleaning, tidying, box opening, repeat cycle by a lovely Anonymous reader, (ooh I feel so special having 'readers') I'm working on a secret gift at present that I can't share til next week and the beloved Bessie (my sewing machine) is still packed away, not for long though I promise.
Ok so you're wondering what's with the title, and no the picture is not my home... or me for that matter, (I don't do Polar Fleece!) well I've been cleaning and cleaning and cleaning and having lived in my house for 5 days I have drawn the following assumptions.
My home was previously owned by:
* The worlds hairiest people
* someone operating some kind of hairy animal breeding facility, I deduce that the bathroom and bedroom drawers were (cue overused MTV Cribs quote) 'where the magic happens'.
* people who collected coloured Bathroom suites, two Blue, one Grey!
* people who think that pouring sand, tar and molten plastic onto a plain countertop will somehow turn said countertop into a Granite masterpiece.
Awful decor and suprisingly hairy drawers aside I seriously love this house, and once I've given this place a serious Centre parting I may feel brave enough to share photos.