Yesterday late afternoon I got a message from Builder Men to say that Francine’s replacement kitchen window was in and they’d be here at 08:30 to fit it. The weather forecast did not look particularly favourable for ripping out an old window and standing outside fitting a new one. Good old Sod’s Law strikes again.
Sure enough, Builder Men pitched up on schedule, did a swift bit of preparation then Man #1 left to collect said window.
Our kitchen units, from the Chippendale range, were also due to be delivered today, Wednesday being their day for servicing this area. The units were coming from up north so we thought they would get here a little later in day.
Wrong. Francine took a phone call at 09:00 saying Mr. Chippendale was just finishing his first drop and was 30 minutes away. His truck, with Doncaster written on the back, drew up at 09:35. He’d apparently started his journey shortly after 05:00.
Our instructions were to have the longer pieces stored in our garage while the shorter components were to be stashed in the newly painted kitchen/diner. I hadn’t really given this any thought, but I was surprised to find that everything but our larder unit (largely to house the central heating boiler) came flat-packed.
Chippendale, flat-packed? Whatever next? Our other option at the start of this process would have been Sheraton units; I presume they also come flat-packed. Chippendale and Sheraton are two of the finest, most traditional names in British furniture and their stuff now gets delivered flat-packed. How the mighty have fallen.
The component boxes seemed endless. I remembered assembling the furniture for Casa Libélule which came in 16 boxes and that was puzzle enough. I’ve counted the items on the delivery note; trying to make sense of this 163-piece 3D Jigsaw looks like an absolute nightmare.
I’m very glad it’s not going to be me doing it.
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