Chests and Shelves

What happened this week? I can barely remember now.

A flurry of failing and falling letters...
There was a flurry of activity (in all senses of the word) at work. That much I know. The powers that be commanded me to do things. I did some of them. The other power that be also asked where the document I'd promised was, and so I had to get that done as well. It's back in his hands now so he can do with it as he will. It's beyond my comprehension. Actually, what's really behind my comprehension is why people feel compelled to have things that have languished for months become priorities just because the end of the year is nigh. Nonetheless, one must do what one must do for one is obliged of the Noblesse Oblige kind that is.


Speaking of which, the fake tree is already up at work. I tried kicking it on my way past it, but the office elves had very cleverly glued it into place. Sneaky.

Quartz a la Silestone - Silica was never this colourful in Chem 101.
Work aside, the insane, compulsive and probably unhealthy polishing of the shoebox continues, but not as frenetically as before. The quartz (fancy name for crushed concrete encased in glue) counters, I've decided, as ML said, but which I found hard to believe at first, are very hardy and are resistant to all manner of insults. "You can even cut on them!" V said. I've not gone that in my beliefs, however. So no cutting, especially if I ever get round to buying a ceramic knife which I believe are almost has sharp, hard and brilliant as diamonds.

Would you agree KB? Hmmmm?

Such a tease: To dishwash or not to dishwash?
Ceramic knives to go with ceramic frying pans. The big tease where this pan is concerned: It's beautiful and lovely to use, but will it survive the indignities of high pressure water with gritty bits in it if placed in a dish washer? Big M was asked, and she said she didn't know, and had never tried, and why didn't I try it first and let her know. I'm not paying attention to this request. The other thing about dishwashers which is also a bit of a tease. How does one load bowls into it? Until I find out, I'm not having anybody over for laksa (are youse paying attention?) I'm not generating a load of dirty bowls just to wash them by hand because they won't fit into my dishwasher (my #3 best friend)...and knowing the crowd that would come, they'd also dirty all those lovely big, big, big, wine glasses what don't fit into my # 3 best friend either. So yes, I'm not washing up all those glasses by hand either. Figure it out folks, and the invitations will flow forth.

A hovering shelf
I am also now the proud owner of a floating shelf - a true floating shelf for it's made of wood so if chucked by a woodchuck if a wood huck could chuck wood into a body of water, it'd float. But of course I wouldn't allow woodchucks to chuck this particular chunk of wood what was sold to me by a chest of impressive proportions, and who also sold me a wooden chest (or trunk if you prefer). Both Rosewood, both excellent additions to my shoebox. The shelf isn't quite floating yet, merely hovering because I have to track down a stud finder, then figure out the best way to mount the shelf onto the wall securely, and then track down people with the right tools. I was hoping that the chunk of polished and compressed carbon would offer to help, but it wasn't forthcoming. Never mind. There were other compensations to be had, but not seriously.

An impressive chest with no holes
The chest is really quite lovely though, and I use big blue so much more now that I have a surface to place my washed feet and cuppas.  Yes, this chest will be quite useful especially if I have to hide a dead body someday as in The Mystery of the Spanish Chest although unlike the perpetrator, I would certainly not drill holes into it. After all, what use is it to drill holes into a chest if the contents are dead. And there you have it, I've given away the clue what Hercules P used to solve the mystery - not so mysterious, nor Spanish if memory serves, when all is said and done. Ah me, ah my, what chests will do to one, but sadly, not for one. Rosewood, solid and warm grains. I must get over this little filly of febrility.

Do I look like I give a fig?! Stirred or shaken indeed!
And yes, there it is, another dried fig and side-rib barbequed flavoured chip and all is forgotten. For I've also realised after talking briefly to GA the reason for which (la raison pour laquelle...) I find myself chilled. He didn't say it to me directly, but he did offer me a cupcake and the message was this. You're to thin, eat something fatty and sugary, put some fat on, and you will no  longer be cold. So KB was quite right, the chills have nothing to do with high ceilings and warm air rising, but rather a distinct lack of brown fat to keep the warmth in. No wonder, people shy away from me, I come across as cold and chilly.  I suppose that I could buy and eat bags of chips get fat and stay warm - only $2.00 per bag at No Frills...hmmmm...why, that means I could by 250 bags or thereabouts for the cost of a Dyson Hot Fan. But surely, it'd be healthier, more ecologically sound and generally more stylish to get a Dyson? What to do, what to do.

A fine balance: Fat or a Dyson?
To get fat or to buy a Dyson. BK was no help, he suggested having a stay home BF to warm me up when I get home chilled. I thought about it and reasoned that in the long-term it would be cheaper to have a Dyson than a BF for BFs have feelings, appetites and one then has to placate and satisfy. Whereas with a Dyson and a timer (it even comes with a remote!) I could let it be and it would keep me warm. Damn it. I want a Dyson something. I deserve one. Maybe a vacuum  Hmmmm. Back to the Dyson website goeth I. No diamond is rarer to me than a Dyson would be. Well maybe, but aren't diamonds hard and cold anyway? Oh, I don't know where this is going. Maybe a Dyson vacuum instead of a heater. After all, GA showed me a Neato Automatic Vacuum Cleaner what scares the cat. It (the NAVC, not the cat which rather runs away when the NAVC starts up) is programmable and goes about its business hoovering up little bits of dirt, kitty litter and hair, then - oh so cute - it heads back to the charging station, but that's not all, turns around - and that's still not all, then shimmies its butt back onto the charging station much like a severely overweight Royal hesitatingly settling his butt onto a rare, fragile Chippendale chair that may or may not take the Royal's weight. So there you go, GA has the Neato, surely I deserve a Dyson - after all, I must keep up with the neighbours now mustn't I?

And that's it for now. I feel hungry. Why, I am!