North country boy

We’re having our kitchen ripped out and refitted at the moment.

It is long overdue and both exciting and somewhat testing.

We’re trying our very hardest not to live on takeaways and are spending quite a lot of evenings trying to reassure our two cats that the bangy, smashy men won’t be here forever.

Their furry brains are refusing to accept this and every day starts with them bolting through the cat flap at speeds I never thought cats could hit (particularly the larger one whose main activity is to eat until his cheeks resemble spacehoppers and then sleep it off until the next meal.)

But it’s getting done and, thanks to our kitchen fitting duo, getting done with a combination of amusement and 90s indie.

As evidenced the other day when I wandered past the gaping hole that is currently our kitchen to find one balancing precariously up a ladder and the other with his head in a cupboard both singing along loudly and happily to the radio.

Brilliant.

:: North Country Boy by The Charlatans