I took advantage recently of my fortuitous position in the housing market to inject something into the slowing retail market. I take my Fiscal Responsibilities very seriously. It's a gesture of solidarity welcoming Golden Brown into power. those of you new to this blog may think this post in an arrogant display of conspicuous consumption; those of you who actually know me in real life may exclaim "About time too...!"
While I was in Manchester Jimmy took advantage of my absence to paint the back room. On my return we ordered a carpet; also one for the stairs, which he had painted just after Easter. 
Today was carpet delivery day, and deliciously, everything went to plan. I took the opportunity earlier in the week of ordering an amp, CD player and speakers to replace my well-knackered midi stereo system. I am now without cassette deck - which is easily and cheaply remedied when I get a round tuit.
Just a very small part of my music collection
It's been agony having the new system sitting in their boxes since Tuesday; a DVD recorder (which also plays videos) is still packaged on the floor of the front room. 
In fact, I feel as though my life is currently piled up on the front room floor. 
We have ordered two display cabinets (two doors wide, to replace a crappy fally apart Gerry-built three door wide one), but they are not due for another five weeks yet, so the next task is to load the glassware, crockery and booze back into the old one - we can't live another month falling over things on the living room floor.
But for now, I am truly enjoying my new CD player. The instructions say run it in for 36 hours constant use, so I am yet to come to a definite conclusion. Major decision which CD to play first. Despite owning several hundred CDs, the choice of the virginity-breaking one was obvious. So far, I can say that I never realised that Plácido sounded so fabulous singing Wagner, nor did I realise that the Tristan Love Duet was so orgasmic...!
(Oh, and the horrible neighbour who has built a poxy extension on our wall, the bitch, moved into her house to live yesterday. Hopefully, today, she is finding out about her more-of-a-bitch neighbour who plays Wagner loud with the kitchen door open...!)
But the trouble with conspicuous consumerism is the sense of deep dissatisfaction it causes. 
I have new toys, I love my new toys, I think the mile-deep shag pile on the backroom carpet is gorgeously sensual. But I want more. Okay, I won't analyse that piece of philosophy. But whatever one does, one does feel that there is always more to do. For example, our walls are currently picture-free. We got a lovely papyrus in Luxor, which is rolled up somewhere, in anticipation of a decent frame; that will go at the top of the stairs and will look fabulous from the front-door step.
I think new curtains are needed...
