Confidentially, we’re having a nice new kitchen put in at last - Susan Morrison

The brand new kitchen comes with a lovely colour scheme, I'm sure you'll agreeThe brand new kitchen comes with a lovely colour scheme, I'm sure you'll agree
The brand new kitchen comes with a lovely colour scheme, I'm sure you'll agree
Day 324 of the Great Kitchen Replacement. We put our old fridge freezer out on the pavement for a charity to take away, but it failed to pass muster.

Never really got on with that fridge. It was an emergency buy. Its predecessor went wonky. We needed a fridge in a hurry. It was a classic case of buy in haste and repent at leisure. Now it's standing in the rain, awaiting its date with the dump.

Not all is lost, though. It was only out there for a couple of hours when someone nicked the motor out of the back. This is Leith.

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Eagle-eyed guerilla electrical repair operatives scan the pavements constantly for possible freebies. There are times when I fear for any removable parts on a tram lingering too long at the stop.

A skip has appeared in the front garden. The old kitchen is in it. I can see bits of old flooring and a cupboard door, and I can almost feel the resentment seeping up from dumped work surfaces.

Not good enough for you anymore, eh? No, you had to opt for a shiny new look. Where’s the fun in a grill oven that actually works, eh?

We had one of those. By the time it had heated up to make toast the bread had passed its sell-by date. We bought a toaster. It’s currently upstairs in the bedroom, beside the kettle.

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We’ve been living on tea, coffee and toast for the last five days. Sandwiches have been the go-to meal deal, to be eaten among the piles of boxes in the living-room. It’s like we’ve become a pair of extreme picnickers.

The Yorkshire husband found a Pot Noodle and got quite excited. Back in the day he used to quite enjoy a Chicken and Mushroom. Tragically, noodles in a pot are not what they once were.

A disappointed Yorkshire-man is a sad thing to see, although to be fair, you do need a fair amount of expertise to tell the difference between downcast and the default mournful expression of a Yorkshireman.

We watched the first episode of Great British Bake-Off, which was probably not a good idea. They were in a tent, for heaven's sake, and they could cook proper food, even if it was shaped like a chicken called Fanny.

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We’ve been washing the two plates we can use in the bathroom. I accidentally used a pan scrubber in the shower. In my defence I had shower gel in my eyes, or as you know it, Fairy Liquid. The scrubber fair stung, but on the plus side, bits of me are now as soft as my face with mild green Fairy Liquid.

Teams of jolly workmen have swooped in to tear things out, plaster walls and drill holes. They like singing. The plasterers gave it laldy to soft 80s rock, and the sparkies do cover versions of club anthems.

Rather alarmingly, the tea-break tradition seems to have taken a tumble. They don’t seem to go for tea-with-eight-sugars anymore, and the offer of biscuits is politely rebuffed.

On the top of the skip there are empty fizzy juice bottles and, surprisingly, discarded packets of Mr Kipling’s Bakewell Slices. Good choice.

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It will be finished. I have faith in my kitchen crew. Fuelled on fizz and Bakewell Slices we will prevail.

By the way, I'm doing a show. Historically Funny on Sunday (this Sunday) at the Stand Comedy Club, Edinburgh, starting at 5pm. It’s filthy history, very funny and you can have a drink at the same time!. Details are here: https://www.thestand.co.uk/performance/16250/susan-morrison-is-historically-funny/20240929/edinburgh

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