Thursday
Felt like Friday, a day of searching, cataloguing and an invasion of the library by wee girls. Work wise the days a bit of a blur other than an FoI release. There are issues with the release.
This and the family come home. Dash to Bank Quay to find them. Chinese at Bold Heath. Home and sleep.
Friday
Day of sofas. Monst has decided that cows must die so that we can sit. So leaving the decorators in the house (they're working on a bank holiday!) We head to the No Mercy in Speke. DFS and we begin the process of parking our collective arses on a succession of sofas. This is repeated around the purveyors of furniture in the No Mercy. DFS it is has the most comfy sofa but Monst suspects that this is because it was early on in the proceedings. Cal has also discovered the delights of recliners, especially those of an electric variety. We start this process at 9.00 and are still going at 12.00 at which point it is decided to hold a sofa seminar to determine exactly what we want and eat lunch at Damon's. This reveals from our starting position of dead coo sofa we have moved on to dead coo sofa that moves, this is based on an in depth analysis of our use of the current furniture. It is also decided we have parked our bums on all the sofa's that the No Mercy has to offer and Warrington is our next stop. This eventually yeilds a purchase of a three seater recliner (manual because of lack of power) and an electric two seater. All in a fetching russet. Cows are booked, tanners will tan, furniture elves in Scunthorpe will hammer and manufacture and 11 weeks later the things will be delivered.
Is my retail terror over at this point? Is it 'eck as like. No we then repair to Ikea, disagree on the subject of bookshelves (I want more, Monst wants less), compromise with two sets of slightly longer shelves rather than four sets of the smaller shelves. Drop Cal in the play area, occurs to me this could be the cheapskates route to a play barn experience. I suppose the debate would be do you put up with the horror of Ikea which moves at the pace of pregnant women and couples fitting out their dream homes or at least dreaming of fitting out their own homes, or put up with the full play barn horror. Bottom line is I'm knackered by the time we get home. Nip to the Indian for a takeaway, grab a pint as I wait. Eat, try and sort out meeting Beck and fail, just not convenient from both sides, bed, sleep.
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