A cut above the rest

Last week Garry and I paid another visit to IKEA. This time we came away with three new CD racks and a host of handy bits and pieces. Our aim was to finish off the main living room which , until now, a had few minor matters outstanding. First, hundreds of CDs and DVDs were given a permenant home, enabling our last remaining removalist box to enter recycling heaven. We also brought a beautiful plant and rustic pot for the room's bay window, and hung the final picture who's glass had been damaged in the move.

Finally, our living room is finished. It looks grand! The only items still outstanding are a rug by the fireplace and a new coffee table. Neither is particular urgent. We think we've already found promising candidates so the wait won't be long.

Our display curtains also arrived for the main bedroom, giving our sunny picture window a homely touch. We're still waiting for our armchair to make an appearance. It was ordered almost two months ago. The spare bedroom also sports a new set of coat hooks - another handy IKEA purchase.

This whirlwind of home decorating means that only one room is remains incomplete. Our home office still has a small piles of goods waiting for a final resting place. i wouldn't hold your breath. You might recall that ,18 months after we moved into our Sydney apartment, we still had a desk made from packing boxes and melamine. Given that we've already brought a new home office suite for Swiss Cottage, I'd say we're already ahead of the game.

Time for another amusing story
As part of the new home office suite, I purchased a shelving unit. The shelf has to be cut to fit the available space. London homes never have a simple, flat wall. You have no idea how many odd shapes, angles and small indentation found on every wall! Our home office at least eight different nooks, crannies and quirky alcoves - and its the smallest room in the house.

I've been waiting until the SAAB was on the road before taking the shelf up the street to the local mega-hardware store. Here they have a giant saw that cut boards into custom sizes. So, the SAAB is on the road. It's time to get the board cut.

Picture this. It's 8pm on a Saturday evening and I'm walking in the door with a 2-metre board. The security guard stops me. "Are you returning that sir?" "No. I brought it from MFI." " You can't bring that in here if you didn't buy it from us." A discussion ensues, during which I explain that staff on a previous visit had agreed to cut this board for me. First hurdle passed.

I reach the board cutting counter. No attendant is on duty. However, a handy 'press-me' button is waiting. I press the button. It doesn't light up. The button is broken. I abandon my giant board and walk to the other end of the store. Security guard eyes me suspiciously as I pass by as I'm now sans-board. I find a store clerk and beg for assistance. He can't help as he's not trained, but he'll look for someone who can. Second hurdle passed.

After a five minutes wait at the counter, a qualified board cutting specialist arrives. "I'm sorry to keep you. How can I help?" "Please can you cut this board into three parts. I have the measurements with me." "I can't cut this board. It's not from our store." A debate follows for the next few minutes as I explain once again that staff have agreed to cut this board on a previous visit. "OK I will cut it." A closer examination of the board follows.

"Actually, I can't cut this particular board. This is a solid board. We can only cut laminated boards." "No it's not. Trust me. The rest of the furniture that goes with this is laminated chipboard." A five-minute debate over the composition of the board now starts. I finally give up and ask to be shown the electric saws. I will buy a saw, a sawing brace and cut the jolly thing myself. The clerk takes me to the opposite side of the store shows me a grand selection of saws. However, he cannot find a mitre box to safely guide the saw cut. No sale!

We return to the board-cutting area. My friendly store clerk taps the board. He pauses. "Maybe you're right. Perhaps this is laminated chipboard. I'll give it a go but I can't guarantee that it'll work." "Please, please, please try! The board is useless to me in its current state. I'd rather ruin it than abandon it to the rubbish truck."

The troublesome board is duely sliced without problems. Then, while returning it to the service counter, the clerk drops it, damaging the laminate surface. He offers to forgo the cutting fee. I accept. Finally, 30 minutes after I've walked in with a 2-metre board, I walk out with an ulcer and three smaller boards, one of which is now damaged. The final hurdle is behind me!

I arrived home and positioned first board in the home office. Guess what? It's the wrong size! So is the next one. After all the drama, I'd given the store clerk cutting measures in the wrong order...! I'm now back to square one. The boards have to go back to the store to be cut again next weekend.