House- destruction reigns

Shreds of wood chip hang like the dessicated skin of a snake from the ceiling of the reception. The shower room, denuded of dodgy pink tiles, awaits extraction. Holes are springing up where walls used to be and doors are becoming walls. Once again I am nervous, but there's no denying the enthusiasm of our hearty Bulgarian crew. The kitchen fitter also visited and measured everything up. He looked a little perturbed by the curious configuration of the basin and dishwasher, but reckoned he could get around it. Never mind there's a crate of Zimbabwean ephemera arriving on Friday. Ye Gods, where am I going to put Uncle Bernie's chest? Deep breaths Billsworth, deep breaths.


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