English Rose Kitchen

So where are we now? We have the lot from Leeds and the 3 wall units from Consett.

We’ve paid for the lot from Poole and also the American style fridge/freezer from up the road from Poole. We need to work out how to get both of these.

Then there’s the lot that are somewhere in Northern Ireland. I’ve emailed him again for photos and to let me know where in NI he lives. We’re rather keen on the mad idea of a trip over there to pick it up and have already priced up a van (reasonable) and the ferry (extortionate!). Gary says he’ like to come with us for the trip.

Oh and finally, we paid for a stove a couple of weeks back an we haven’t seen hide nor hair of it. Must chase today.

Woohoo! The three wall units arrived from Consett by Fed Ex this morning. We unpacked the boxes to find that they are all in pretty good shape. They are the original cream. A couple of knocks here and there and they still need stripping.

We instantly realise that we don’t have anywhere to put them so we stack them on top of the last lot of stuff that we don’t have room for either, with a promise to ourselves to take them to my parents’ garage as soon as the car is fixed again.

Later my dad texts me to say that “It’s lovely and sunny in Rostock” (they’re on a Baltic cruise). I feel faintly guilty that they’ve gone to all this trouble to clear out the garage only to have us fill it again, but needs must and I tell myself that I’m sure they’ll understand once they see the bigger picture.

We also realise that the units are subtly larger than the ones we have there at the moment and it will take a creative eye to get them all to fit.

Farouk hasn’t called about the fan switch. Will give him a shout tomorrow.

They brought me up well and have given me so much, but right now I particularly love them for having recently emptied their garage so that we have somewhere to store our kitchen units. Well that’s not actually why they emptied it and in fact they’re on holiday right now so they don’t have a clue, but I love them for it all the same.

Today we drove the Leeds lot over there. Luckily it being in (a lot of) pieces means that it only occupies a few feet at the back.

About 10 miles from home the bloody car started overheating again. I’ve been driving with one eye on the temperature gauge since Farouk fixed it and this evening I noticed it drifting up again whenever we drew to a standstill. I had to resort to the trick I learned last week of switching of the engine at traffic lights. It’s a bit of a pain to do that in an automatic because you have to keep sticking it back in park to start it.

I took it straight round to Farouk to have a look at. He told me that it was the fan switch this time. It seemed an amazing coincidence to me that the fan switch should go the week after the thermostat went, but at least this time I caught it before the radiator or some other component about whose function I’m equally vague blew. One thing about Farouk though, he’s honest and doesn’t overcharge.

Our man in Poole emails me offering to bring his lot up for around £1 a mile. It’s tempting given that Chris the Driver hasn’t called me back yet, so I ask him about picking up the American style fridge freezer on the way. He gets back to me saying that he can, but he’d have to hire a van. I assumed he already had one because I don’t see how the units will fit into anything else, so ask him. I guess he’s away already because he hasn’t come back to me.

Haven’t heard back from the woman with the fridge freezer so I hope she’s OK about me no having picked it up yet.

I didn’t sleep too well again, but this time it wasn’t excitement that kept me awake so much as concern over the car’s ability to make to to Leeds and back. I decided not to try to go back to sleep. Instead I left the house just before 7am and made it to the M1 in about 15 minutes. As the start loomed into view I gritted my teeth and told it I wasn’t going to let it beat me a second time.

I needn’t have worried. The 200 mile trip was an absolute dream without a single hold up and no over heating. I stopped once to check the tyre pressure and twice for a double espresso.

I got to Leeds in record time and would have reached Al’s not long after had my satnav not sent me round the same part of the Leeds Loop (I think it’s their inner city ring road) three times before I chose to ignore it for my own sanity. My sense of direction is notoriously bad and I usually shy away from trying to second guess my satnav, but even I could tell that something was up in this case.

Al’s house has incredibly picturesque views over something I suppose are called “dales” in that part of the world. When you live in London you forget that even at its quietest there’s always noise so it’s quite a surprise to leave town and hear … nothing.

Al turned out to be a truly lovely guy (you’d like him if you met him). He made me an Earl Grey and showed me the units. A three section sink unit and a run of three bottom units with a corner unit. They all need a fair amount of TLC and some bits will go to the nearest skip.

There is also a whole bunch of other parts that we couldn’t identify, including two odd looking large things that look like they belong in a hexagonal kitchen. In the end I didn’t have room for them in the car, so I left them for Al to throw out.

I set up shop in his driveway with my ad hoc set of tools. An electric screwdriver on the verge of losing power (I hadn’t thought to pick up the charger), a screwdriver with exchangeable bits (best £3.45 I ever spent in Woollies), a long flathead screwdriver whose head was bent about 5 degrees off centre and a long philips screwdriver whose head had long since been stripped of any useful purpose. Al provided extra WD40, a drill with a blunt bit and an angle grinder.

He was right about one thing, the process did involve grazed knuckles, along with scratched forearms and a large cut on my left palm. He was wrong about his estimate of three hours though, it took more like six. The run of three units took about 1 1/2 hours, but the sink units proved to be a bitch and took the rest of the time. It would have been impossible without the help of his drill and angle grinder.

Along the way I chatted with Al and found out that he was the same age as me, had been involved in production and currently plays guitar in two bands, Chumba Wumba and Cud. Also he’s a vegetarian, like me. We concluded that there must be something about people who like English Rose.

He told me that he’d sourced two different lots of English Rose Kitchen units with every intention of installing them, but that they’d lost heart and given up. He also showed me a rusty old car and told me about two old British motor bikes that were further stalled restoration projects.

During the day I get a calls from Gary and Alexia (who has been singing with Rotten Hill Gang) to say that it looks like a song that we wrote and demoed for a Home Office TV ad is going to be used. The agency wants 50% of the publishing though, which is a liberty and a non starter, but I’ve seen agencies try it on before and it probably works with artists who don’t have a clue.

I managed to cram everything into the car while leaving enough room to see through the rear view mirror and, having agreed to stay in touch, set off home just before 7pm. If anything the journey home was even easier than the journey there. As I drove I mused to myself that it was vaguely appropriate that I’d picked up my first lot of English Rose from one of the rose counties.

I listened to Radio 4 and the rattling of aluminium in the back.

I have just one question for drivers who situate themselves about three yards behind me while I’m driving at the speed limit and there’s a vehicle in the lane to my left. Do you seriously believe that by driving so close you’re going to make me speed up?

Oh and Loiners? That’s what people from Leeds are called. They just don’t seem to know it.

Today we won an eBay auction for the following:

1 x 4 unit sink with later double sink top,
1 x tall larder unit rare item in excellent condition.
2 large and 2 small wall cupboards
1 3 unit work top with stainless slashback surround (needs plywood)
1 spare end panel and two undersink dividers
1 corner shelf work top (right hand) with spalshback
2 x stainless work top dividers
2 x corner unit shelves (1 damaged repairable)
I do have handles for cupboards and some nuts and bolts

We got them for £269 and they look to be in good condition. Yes, we’re going to end up with about 3 kitchens’ worth at this rate.

As seems to be usual the basic units are accompanied by a bunch of other junk that nobody seems to know what to do with.

Somehow we need to get them up from Poole.

So here’s one of the reasons why we decided to fit our own kitchen.

This is the first time we’ve ever tried to get a kitchen fitted and yet, when it comes to dealing with sales people we feel like we’re old hands. You see, kitchen sales people all share the same script. To us it seems that it all started with Everest, the double glazing outfit, but that’s just because they’re the best exponents of the genre. In fact the first time I ever came across the technique was from Anglian, another company that sells double glazing.

The script is as follows:

1. You’re told what a lovely home you have (this is to warm you up for a later point)
2. They take your basic requirements.
3. They try to persuade you that your basic requirements are wrong and that these are the requirements you should have.
4. After much sleight of hand and apparent workings out on a piece of paper you’re handed a quote for (say) £29,000. Cue shocked expression on your face.

5. They then tell you that, for no specific reason, they can give you a discount of up to 40%, bringing the price down to £17,400.
6. They look into your eyes to see whether there’s any flicker of relief at this “discounted” price. If you weaken for a milisecond they pounce and try to seal the deal.
7. You don’t, so they reprise the “you have a lovely home” theory from point 1. This mutates into “Your home is an ideal show home” whereby they can  give you an additional 30% off if you agree to a sign in your front garden. Show the salesperson the door immediately if they tell you that you qualify because you’re on a corner or are close to a school, church or gym. The woman from Anglian nearly wet herself with excitement when I told her that I lived as close as a mile from the nearest church and a mere mile and half from the closest gym.
8. You still don’t bite, so they place a call to a mystery manager. The idea is that you’re supposed to witness them “negotiating” on your behalf, pleading that your case is special in some way. We like leaving them to it, watching them having an imaginary conversation from the other end of the flat.
9. The call ends with “He wants to speak to you”. The “manager” explains to you that the only reason they can offer such a good price is because they have a special promotion on that ends “today”. What an amazing coincidence!
10. The sales person presents you with a form to sign in two places as if you’ve already agreed. When you refuse, they explain that the first signature is just to say that you agree that they paid you a visit and that you “have” to sign. You don’t, but I did have one saleswoman implying a threat of legal action when I refused.

We always tell them them not to waste our time with these tactics, they always say that they don’t and then they always do.

Oddly enough we did get our secondary glazing from Everest, but we had an absolute rarity. A double glazing salesman with integrity who just told us the best price he could give us without any of the BS. Ray told Everest that we’d had bad experiences in the past an they sent along this guy. I knew we’d get along when he told as he used to be an A&R man who hated the record industry as much as he now hated the double glazing industry. He’s left Everest now, but I will gladly supply his contact details and a glowing reference to anybody who’s sick of robots.

I didn’t sleep too well last night what with all the excitement at the prospect of finally getting my hands on a load of genuine English Rose. I was wide awake at about 4am thinking “If I’m this awake now, just imagine how awake I’ll be at 7am after a few hours sleep!”. I woke at 8:30am, dog tired, my plan to try to get to the M1 before the rush hour somewhat compromised.

Actually I made quite good time as it turned out, getting to the M1 in a respectable 25 minutes. With no traffic (starting out just before 7am) I can do it in 15, in the rush hour sometimes 1 1/2 hours, the first half of which is often just driving the 300 yards or so through Harlesden. I guess I just missed the rush hour, so my sloth had paid off.

There are a couple of 50mph restricted sections near the start of the M1 at the moment, but not much to worry about and the traffic was running fairly smoothly till around Newport Pagnell, where it dropped to 50, then 40mph and finally to a standstill.

Knowing my ability to choose the slowest lane in any given traffic conditions I decided to stay exactly where I was, in the fast lane. Except that no one was moving anywhere. I remember thinking that the car in front was emitting a lot of exhaust … er no – wait a minute, that’s steam and it’s coming from underneath my own bonnet! What’s more the needle on the temperature gauge was politely hammering at the end stop.

I switched off the engine and considered my options. I was just parallel to the end of a turn off so I indicated and luckily the truck driver to my left took pity on my plight and let me go. The driver in the outside lane wasn’t so forgiving at my driving at right angles to the flow of traffic so I had to be a bit pushy, but with just a minimal amount of off road skill I made it onto the slip road.

I set about finding a mechanic to take a look and I noticed that as I sped up, the temperature went down. In fact, not unlike the movie Speed, as long as I stayed above 50mph everything seemed to be OK. Clearly this wasn’t a tactic I could maintain for long. I pulled into a gas station and called Ray to see if she knew whether her AAA (American Automobile Association) covered her in the UK as she thought it might, then while she was looking managed to find a mechanic on my own, who told me that it was probably the thermostat that had gone.

To cut a painful story short, I called Al in Leeds to let him know I couldn’t make it, turned round and came home with one eye on the road, one on the temperature. I sincerely apologise to the driver of the white van (you won’t hear that phrase too often!) that I cut up while turning onto the North Circular, but I wasn’t able to slow down for fear of the head gasket blowing.

I took it to Farouk, who told me that as a result of the thermostat going (price around £15) the radiator had cracked and would need replacing (price around £350).

M1 1 – English Rose 0

We just won the nearly new Electrolux American Fridge Freezer ENL62981XX3 we’ve been watching for a few days for £440. Great price we think – they sell new for something like £1,200.

It’s down in Brockenhurst, Hampshire. Not a clue how I’m going to get it up here, but I’m sure Chris the Driver will be able to help.

I was round at Gary’s working on some Rotten Hill Gang material when Ray called me to let me know that we’d just won our first lot of English Rose Kitchen units for a £205.20. They’re up in Leeds and I have absoluely no idea how I’m going to go up an collect them, but we have been told that the units come apart completely. I hope that’s true!

It’s a small start, but it feels like we’re moving at last.

The first lot enjoys the English sunshine

While I’m waiting for actual English Rose eBay auctions to end I’ve ordered an English Rose Ktichen advert cut out of an old Punch Magazine. It arrived today. Smaller than I’d imagined, but it’s taken pride of place on our fridge to remind us what the finished item is going to look like.