… dishrack.
The hospital digs at my new gig were not the cleanest when I arrived. It was the usual three rooms off a corridor, with a small living room, bath/shower and separate toilet, and I was more than a little impressed by my room (it had the requisite sink in your room but was otherwise also quite well-furnished), but oh my word, was the kitchen filthy. The bin was overflowing and kept company by another two bags of rubbish, the sink was grotty, and dishes, saucepans, and cutlery were spread over the draining area of the sink and across the neighbouring bit of benchtop, and stains and spills decorated the benchtops and the floor. ‘So I guess I won’t be cooking while I’m here then’ I thought as I took the sight in.
So V and I ate out over the weekend while he was with me, I stocked up on frozen fish fingers and bags of frozen veg at Sainsbury’s, and we had our leftovers at Pizza Hut packed up so I could eat it over the week (it was easily the first time in literally years that I’ve eaten at Pizza Hut, and yes – it IS that kind of town).
I then spent the first of my evenings after V left trying to do a bit of a clean in the kitchen. I put away the dishes, cleaned the sink and the benchtops, and re-washed the cutlery. As minimal as this was, it made me feel a whole lot better about the place, just enough to venture to eat a meal at home – ok, it was the frozen fish and frozen veg reheated in the microwave, but still. And apparently it made the cleaners feel better about it, because they actually (quite a bit later in the week mind) cleaned the floor.
To my dismay however, I started noticing the draining area of the sink wasn’t really draining. It wasn’t angled correctly, and was even ever so slightly concave, meaning everything was just sitting in its own dishwater. Yuck.
Of course, this being a short term job, and me being a broke, I was reluctant to ‘invest’ in anything homewares-ish, so I decided on the weekend I would be scouring the town’s weekly Sunday car boot sale at the local football club for a dishrack (a secondhand one would be ok – the smaller investment also redeeming itself by virtue of being saved from the tip and reused – this is my year of everything secondhand, after all).
But it wasn’t too be. V ended up coming up again on the weekend, and at a local fair (we never found the car boot sale) we managed to score a water filter jug for practically nothing (I hated the taste of the water here, but again, reluctant to invest in one), and a shredder for a bargain price as well. But no secondhand dishrack.
On a trip to Sainsbury’s the same weekend, we found their only option was a plastic one that I didn’t think would drain very well (and cost £4.25). Poundland and Poundworld (again – yes, it IS that kind of town!) who between the both of them manage to stock quite a bit also failed to come up with the goods.
So Monday I head to work still without a dishrack at home, leaving V to run some errands, and when I come home, V presents me with a dishrack. Not secondhand – but still only £3 from Argos – AND it was a nice wire one. And with that small small purchase, my kitchen is now that little bit more user-friendly, and dare I say… homelier. Just don’t ask if I’ve cooked anything in it yet.
