We put some shelves up, fairly recently, in the front room. They’re not shelves, as such, but picture ledges which is basically a shelf but with a groove in it for resting things in. Like, say, pictures.
There’s also one in Carole’s office/study above the record player so she can display her records on it and take arty farty pictures for the ‘gram.
And then there was one left.
And it’s been variously moved around from room to room until it ended up in the corner of the bedroom. Which is a place things go when we’re not sure what to do with them (see also a tablet stand which now lives at work where it stands under a tablet) or one of those terracota suns which is probably still in the corner.
Anyway, I earmarked this shelf for use in the kitchen.
Oh, I thought, when it’s up we can do loads of stuff with it. The original plan was to place the kitchen’s Echo on there, but the wire wasn’t long enough (despite me being convinced that it should have been more than enough for the task at hand). Then the radio – but the power jack stuck out too much. Then the tubs of utensils but they were too wide…
Unfortunately, I discovered ALL OF THIS after the shelf was up and looking really nice and well placed.
I immediately regretted where it was, despite how nice it looked, and thought it should have been on the other side of the kitchen above the microwave. But hey ho. It is what it is, as people say when they mean something is shit but don’t want to say it’s shit.
It’s not shit.
It’s just there’s now a shelf that had hopes and dreams (my hopes and dreams, but still) which is dangerously bare.
I’ve put the bottle of washing up liquid on it because it’s sink adjacent.
And because I couldn’t think of anything else and I panicked.
We should get another for above the microwave, though…