Purchase, perchance?

 I was being a bit spendthrift yesterday, which is unusual for me as I am often convinced that financial destitution is just around the corner, a thought that fills me with dread. In reality, this couldn’t be further from the truth, and I know I’m being irrational about all things fiscal, but old habits die hard. It was just the way I was brought up. 

Anyway, yesterday I was in ‘throw caution to the wind’ mode so I purchased:

1) a parasol for our new patio dining set. Between the hours of 11 a.m and 5 p.m the patio is in full sun and if we want to eat lunch out there, it’s a bit of a sweaty head and squinty-eyed affair. Parasol was purchased, then, and the old cast iron base from our last parasol was dug out of the woodshed to sit it in 

2) a couple of sacks of bread-making flour. Aldi and Lidl appear to have stopped stocking bread flour. I’ve not been able to find any for a good three months now. And after the Morrison-gate episode from last week I shan’t be going THERE to buy any. I’ve bought flour from Shipton Mill previously and thought, well, let’s make that my regular supplier. They sell it in bulk, too, which brings the price down to Morrison equivalent. One sack of wholemeal, one sack of white, plus a couple of bags of pizza/pasta flour are on their way. Just need to find somewhere in the kitchen to store them. Will probably keep us going until Christmas.

3) a new Hoover vacuum cleaner. 

Now, our old vacuum cleaner is still functional. It’s about six years old. It’s had a couple of new drive belts, it’s looking a bit tired and scuffed, and the crevice nozzle has gone AWOL. It has also been used to vacuum up stuff it wasn’t built to vacuum up so has ominous rattle moments every now and again. It lives in the laundry because it is a bit of a cumbersome thing and won’t fit in my tall cleaning cupboard in the kitchen.

The saga continues. A few of months ago, when the laundry was looking disorganised and full of tat that has now gone to the tip, His Lordship Malarkey went into the laundry to fetch the vacuum cleaner. And because, like most men, he can’t be bothered to move things in order to get to other things, he lifted it upwards and crossways by its handle. I think there was a bit of yanking involved too. Anyway, the upshot was that the handle snapped, and the next thing I know is I am being presented with a vacuum cleaner whose snapped handle has been reattached using copious amounts of parcel tape. 

This means that for the last few months I’ve been vacuuming using a machine that is reluctant to go in the direction I require it to go because of its wibbly wobbly handle. It’s been like trying to push a rock using jelly. (For my American reader chums, jelly in this case means the wobbly party food stuff which I believe you call Jello, and not the stuff made from fruit that we spread on toast which we call jam but you call jelly. Of course, pushing a rock with jam would be just as difficult. Certainly stickier.) 

On these grounds, I justified the purchase of a new vacuum cleaner. 

I did some quick research using the Good Housekeeping website because it is my belief they know what they are talking about when testing domestic appliances, and I chose their top recommendation for a cordless vacuum cleaner. Yes, dear readers, I am going cordless! I am going for manoeuvrability, ease of storage, flexibility and oomph. I am going slender stick, small head and rechargeable battery. When you live in an old cottage where nothing is straight, you need something nifty. His Lordship Malarkey is especially thrilled it has LED lights. 

‘Lovely decoration!’ said he.

I rolled my eyes. ‘No, they are functional lights,’ said I. ‘For lighting up dark corners and underneath sofas so no dust bunnies, dead spiders or biscuit crumbs may go undetected.

He was even more impressed with this revelation. I’m looking forward to having use of a crevice nozzle once more.

The new Hoover, because it is an actual Hoover hoover, is arriving tomorrow. I can barely contain my excitement.

So I spent the energy produced by my excitement to rearrange my study which involved moving EVERYTHING and conducting a brutal clear out. I was helped by Bambino and Harris. When I say ‘helped’ I mean they were a pain in the arse.