There’s a hockey stick standing in a plant pot in the corner of the living room.
In the room next door is a set of golf clubs that I use once a year, looking forlorn and dusty in the corner.
In my bedroom there’s an electric drill in my underwear drawer, under the bed, amongst other things, lurk an empty fish tank, an old shoe box with sepia prints, and a complete set of Beano Annuals, (up to 1982).
In the other bedroom there’s an armchair made entirely out of books with a used-to-be-dark-blue, tatty throw over it.
If you open the cutlery drawer in the kitchen you’ll find, fuse wire, batteries, knitting needles(!?) , 10 different sewing kits compliments of various hotels, incense sticks, sticky tape, a small stuffed walrus, match boxes, nuts and bolts, the instructions for the video recorder and an eccentric looking tool that looks like it was designed by Mary Shelley to remove the bolt from her monster’s neck – but is really the special tool EX#01/675/Epb, and should be used to withdraw the crankshaft of late model Yamaha R1’s.
In the fridge there’s a stone bottle of Genevre, and a salad that has become a liquid.
There are cd’s in the bathroom, but nothing to play them on, and a blue ring pregnancy tester in the bathroom cabinet, despite never having shared this space with anyone else(!).
There are wine corks on the hearth, and wooden ducks sailing serenely in circles suspended in a maze of cobwebs from the ceiling.
In the corner of a huge, ancient mirror, there’s a tiny photograph of a single red leaf, as if it were a suitable frame.
I’ve got some tidying up to do.
I had a phone call in the office earlier today, and my sponsor asked me if I might consider looking after a little Indonesian girl who had become ‘separated’ (don’t even go there) from her parents in transit. Just for a few days.
So I’ve been out this evening, to be introduced and try not to frighten the poor mite.
So come on chaps, make yourself useful, into the corners and wag your tails, dust you buggers dust – we’ve got company.