These words were conceived to the tune of physical exertion and the occasional dropping of heavy antiques.
Two days in the storeroom, and I’m relieved to return to the physically tame realms of the computer screen, where I don’t have to move oak wardrobes after marble-topped dressers, between a few Grandfather clocks. Instead I move their digital equivalents into neatly arranged folders in ‘My Documents’.
Organising the storeroom in a father and son double act, likeable to the Steptoe’s, has not been a completely thankless endeavour though. I’ve decided we have the perfect setting for a modern series of Steptoe and Son.
Anyone who is interested by this idea, contact firstname.lastname@example.org. He’s a fantastic director.
Naturally, I’ll be playing Harold, haven’t spoken to my father about the part of Albert, but the resemblance is uncanny.
The storeroom is gradually gaining some order, which I’d be happy about, but I know that a storeroom with space is basically an invitation to buy more stuff. Yesterdays auction will probably verify this inkling.
On another note, the weather is meant to be improving; I’ll believe it when I see it. What I can see though, is the general busyness of the Barbican this past week. Presently, there is a pleasing buzz. And why shouldn’t there be? There’s an interesting antiques shop, I hear.