You did NOT just shoot that green shit at me!

I just cleaned bits of our kitchen.

Which doesn’t sound like a big deal, but you see because it’s on the interior of the building, the kitchen in our apartment has no windows. And the range-hood doesn’t actually have a vent, it just runs air through the rather ineffectual filters, and then pushes it straight back into the room out of the top of the hood.

So you can imagine how much vaporised grease and other cooking fumes circulate in our kitchen and then settle down onto surfaces and have to be cleaned.

Keeping that in mind, I just cleaned the top of the pantry cupboard, and the top of the fridge. Two quite large surfaces that we don’t use for anything, and can’t see from ground level, and have certainly never cleaned before.


I really … can’t describe what I had to clean up. The poet Wilfred Owen wrote …

“Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.”

I have to have a sit down and some quiet time.


  1. Have a brandy, old chap. There we go, the trembling will soon stop. Stiff upper lip, old man!