Author: Mother

Antique Clocks

For those whose concern may ever have been that a supply of antique wall clocks might outstrip demand – and therefore reduce the value of your own prize specimen – fear not.  I have just “improved” a clock by painting its shabby exterior with cream and copper paint; only to discover that its appearance was due to genuine antiquity, rather than neglect!  Devaluation aside, the clock looks so much better and it has retained its wonderfully mellow striking tone.  I think, though, the lesson has to be, “when in doubt, don’t”!

 

Multi-Fuel Burning Stoves

Having waited more than twenty years for a multi-fuel or wood burning stove, two were delivered to our home this week.  I would like to claim that my motive was renewable energy, concern for the planet and a desire to be part of the global solution, but it wouldn’t be true.  I just love stoves!

My love affair began at a very early age as I accompanied my father on parish visits to homes without central heating.  (It sounds like Good King Wenceslas, doesn’t it?  There was no similarity whatsoever!)  Many homes were heated by multi fuel or wood burning stoves and they were always warm and welcoming.  Spoiled rotten with delicious treats, hot drinks and a comfortable seat, whilst gazing at mesmerising flames, left an indelible print on my memory; it ranks up there with rocking chairs, cosy blankets and antimacassars.  Over the years, I have acquired a number of rocking chairs – the number is a meagre three at present – and antimacassars have as yet to enjoy a revival, so the last point of conquest was the stoves.

I have been a complete “anorak” as usual and researched stoves to the last dot and tittle.  Perusing websites, brochures, articles, shops, private homes – you name it, I’ve done it – all in the name of “research”.  We used a rather complicated formula (available online) to determine the number of kilowatts of heat our stoves should produce for the size of the room.  (A gentleman in a stove shop later told us just to divide the cubic metreage of a room by 14). Then we decided that heating an entire floor was probably more our thing.  We narrowed the enormous selection down to two stoves and could not make a decision.  So, we concluded that two stoves heating two floors would actually be better than angst!

The stoves were purchased from Stove World UK Ltd (available online).  The prices were the most competitive and the quality of the burners is second to none.  When I spoke to staff at the shop, they were friendly, knowledgeable and helpful.  If you are stove shopping; try them.

The slightly humorous hiccough, at this point, is that despite having 13 chimneys – 11 of which we don’t use – we will need another to accommodate one of the stoves.  Ho hum!  I’ll let you know how it all goes.  Enjoy your week.      

 

Encounter With a Surveyor

Releasing equity form our partially refurbished property, to move onto phase II, necessitated the involvement of a surveyor.  The man duly arrived – early.  In many households this may have posed no issue.  However, I need time to compose myself with eccentricity-decreasing cautions relating to conventional mores of behaviour.  Denied my opportunity, Mr Collinson encountered me juggling eggs, surrounded by hens and their deposits.  ‘Twas a shaky start, one must confess, but all appeared to go well – until the valuation appeared by post.

Broadsided by the ridiculously low valuation figure, we challenged it in the assumption that a transposition error had occurred.  No, it hadn’t.  Comparing the most recent survey with the tome we are using as our schedule of works (from the same firm), we were alarmed to see that our home had shrunk!  Mr Collinson had missed an entire floor of the building and 75 sq metres of space.  Imagine our relief and gratitude that we hadn’t asked him to value a bungalow!  The message for today is, check your paperwork – particularly your surveys – very carefully.

I cannot end without mentioning the ongoing truly appalling behaviour at Liverpool Football club.  During the many years of supporting the club, I had no notion of how deeply and institutionally ingrained the racism was.  It is a national disgrace.  The greatest tragedy is to see the once respected Kenny Dalglish morphed into an apologist for racial hatred.  Shame on him – and all like him.