The Shelf

Something new in my airing cupboard. Someone came yesterday, sawed at a simple rectangular piece of wood for a while and fixed it above the household god, the boiler. When the beige dust cleared – a new storage opportunity!  A space no longer dead. A proper home for the old leopard print sleeping bag, the quilted playmat (flowers and trains) and a legacy of table and other cloths.  Everything else in the cupboard – towels, flannels, duvet sets, pillowcases – now lies a little differently. Neat and tidy, tidy and neat.  Feel a bit re-arranged myself.

Something new in the downstairs loo, too – where another collection – of cosmetics – is kept. An apricot bullet in a black case. A lipstick bought in London called Coco, in homage to Chanel, to keep the other 20 company. Or more, not including the tinted or scented lip balms. Far too many for one mouth. Some of them have been around longer than most Significant Others. The colours, names and textures keep their power to seduce.

This loo was once a pantry. The small brick building outside the kitchen – the outhouse – was once the outside loo, or a coal ‘scuttle’. A dog once roamed the garden. Next door was once a corner shop. Things change.

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