English Rose Kitchen

For whatever reason we fancied a Timothy Taylor this evening and repaired once again to the North Pole. I ran into a neighbour who used to make documentaries for the BBC. On seeing what I was drinking he said ”Whose favourite beer is that?”. I gave him the answer and he told me that he’d once interviewed the TT directors, who said that since Madge’s chance comment they couldn’t make enough of the stuff.

Then Ed Harcourt came in full of beans (he usually is) because he’d just found out that he’d got the soundtrack to the Donnie Darko sequel. He was so happy that he paid for the next two rounds of Timothy Taylor and the evening went downhill from there.

I’ve lined up a van for Monday with a company whose website I look after, Tiger Tours. The plan is to go down and pick up the fridge first, then the kitchen units. Mr Poole says he’s fine all day long. Slightly-angry-woman (with the fridge/freezer) has turned into slightly-angrier-woman because I can’t pick up the American style fridge/freezer at the weekend. This is proof of Al’s theory that English Rose Kitchen fans are of a certain type and the rest of the world are of a certain other type.

Then Martin (nice chap) at Tiger Tours called to say that there’s a problem with the van that I’m hiring (a transit type thing), so would I mind taking a Splitter van instead? Tiger Tours specialise in hiring to bands (we’ve used them ourselves). This thing is a 9 seater behemoth with another few feet of storage at the back. The whole thing is 6.5m or 21′4″ long. I guess the fridge/freezer will go in the storage bit (which serves it right) and the kitchen units can be split between the storage and the seats. It’ll probably have DVD players and broadband and all sorts of stuff that’s complete overkill for the task, but Martin said they’ll give it to me for the price of the van I was going to get.

I was trying to get Chris the Driver to fetch the American style fridge freezer this Saturday, which would please slightly-angry-woman but he hasn’t come back to me, so I’ve arranged to hire a van on Monday. That’s rather convenenient because I can pick up the Poole lot of English Rose Kitchen units in the same run. I just hope slightly-angry-woman and Mr Poole can both accommodate me on Monday.

My mum emailed me from St Petersburg today to tell me that it was fine for me to store the units in their garage. Told you I love my parents!

The woman from whom I’ve bought the American style fridge/freezer emailed me to say “No it’s not OK for you to leave it here till next week”, so I need to work out how to get it to West London from Dorset. Trouble is that I can’t find my driving licence at the moment to hire a van. Guess I’d better start looking. Ray’s the bloodhound when it comes to finding things.

Took the car back round to Farouk, who changed the fan switch and only charged me for the switch.

If anyone who lives near W10, W11 or W12 is looking for an honest and reasonable priced car mechanic, I think I’ve found your man.

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.