Friday, April 04, 2008

The Third Room


When we first moved to the highrise, we had no idea what we would do with a spare bedroom. R took it as his bedroom, but it was too close to the living area and soon moved to the next room along the way. So our spare room is the one nearest the living area. It is for guests to sleep in (advise, never have a spare room, guests will come) and a place to dry clothes and the spare room wardrobe is for storing stuffs. The Highrise could be renamed the inner city motel.

Arriving here from a place with a courtyard with a pull out clothes line, how we would dry clothes was a bit discussed before we moved here. I said no problem, we will get a clothes rack and dry them on that. I couldn't see us drying everything in the clothes dryer.

Once we moved in, R and a friend were discussing moi and how long I would last hanging clothes on a clothes rack. Shirl will be over it very quickly, was the summation. As you can see, I am still doing it. Jocks, socks and frilly knickers go in the dryer. Hang on, no frilly knickers in this household. I am not pissing about with umpteen small things, but pretty well everything else goes on the clothes rack for a couple of days to dry. My luxury is my work shirts go in the dryer, coz then I don't have to iron them.

As you can see, the wardrobe it is full of junk. It is our storage place, well one of them. But over time, we have organised it quite a bit. On the other side is a chair with potting mix under it, and a large box of washing powder sitting on the chair. The shopping jeep is next to that and then large plastic cartons of stuffs such as paints, screws, electric stuffs, audio and visuals stuffs, plumbing stuffs. Cartons are neatly packed and labelled.

Hanging in the wardrobe are cords for various computer related devices etc, and shirts drying. Cords can be pushed to one side. When drying shirts are not there, there is hanging space for visitors and the clothes rack, if I am not organised well enough to have nothing on it when visitors arrive, goes to my bedroom. It gets in my way though, when it is my bedroom.

As for the visitors who occupy the spare room, I recall Dame M saying fish and visitors go off after two days.

12 comments:

  1. I used to have a spare room. Now I have a boyfriend.

    ~sigh

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  2. The sigh sounds ominous.

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  3. Spare rooms are supposed to be messy... your's is way too tidy.

    My spare room is disgraceful, or it was till last week. Been having a huge clean up.

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  4. We bit the bullet and tidied it when R's sister visited a couple of years ago so they had hanging space and later we got rid of cardboard boxes full of junk.

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  5. We have two clothes lines stretching from the back door to the garden shed. They're very convenient, but it does mean that we have to buy clothes that are bright and noisy to disguise all the seagull shit.

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  6. Our spare room is titled The Music Library and we've still got room for more Demos Rousos vinyl discs and about a dozen gramaphones could be tucked in around the filing cabinets holding the CD's lol. Caftans,naturally, are refused admittance.

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  7. We invented the Hills Rotary Hoist Brian. Not caught on in Fleetwood I guess.

    Cull the Rousos Jayne.

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  8. "We invented the Hills Rotary Hoist..."

    Australia's sole contribution to world culture.

    We tried them in Fleetwood once, but cats and seagulls latched onto them as ways of entertaining themselves, and they didn't stand a chance against the 90 mile an hour winds, so nowadays we've returned to the traditional piece of string.

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  9. One more contribution Brian, the rotary lawn mower, the one with spinning blades underneath.

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  10. Andrew, my parents are in the exact same predicament when it comes to drying clothes. Living in a New York apartment, you've no choice really...

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  11. MD, in the US I also read somewhere that some areas don't like unsightly clothes lines in private house yards and have banned them.

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  12. What? That's insane. My parents would love a place to hang clothing out - mum says it's one of the things she misses most about home. Odd, really.

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Whenever I wish I was young again, I am sobered by memories of algebra.