chronicle entire kitchen makeovers produced in the course of the weekend. It all looks effortless and fun, but trust me it’s not.
Late last year, we had a leak in our 24-year old kitchen - I mean a floorboards-exploded-like-Mount-Vesuvius kind of leak - and I took it in my stride.
The plumber muttered, “This is an insurance job” meaning ‘there’s nothing more I can do for you or your floor’. To make things even worse, the fiddly French Bocuse cooker decided it, too, had had it.
Of course the company stopped making spare parts years ago - what was I thinking? Normally husband and wife sit down and discuss all the marvellous things they hope to achieve from a new kitchen, a bit like they do when they road test a new car.
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