In a nutshell: After several years of deliberating about it, I’m finally taking the plunge and opening a bakery in Chichester. The dream is to have a bakery which sells decadent cakes made al ingredients, sourced as locally as possible. The perfect time finally came along when a shop premises that has been in our family for over three generations finally became available again. These posts will chronicle our process of getting the shop reading for opening, hopefully in less than forty days.
We all have stinking colds. The builder. Firstborn. Slaveboy. Yours truly. The house has truly fallen apart, laundry unwashed and sproglets have had to live on a diet of waffles, slow cooked brisket and aerated cream (not at the same time, I hasten to add).
Most days, I don’t even get to say five words to Slaveboy without it involving him telling me that we are x many tiles away from finishing or me telling him we are x many ££££ short. I also spent some time considering marital courting via text messages to keep the marriage fresh and keen.
There’s been more tiling. Finalising logo. Fantasising about wallpaper. Having the wooden floor sanded and varnished.
These guys did a sterling job.
The wooden floor had never seen the light of day at all.
Between the sproglets who’ve stepped up to the challenge and kept the home fire burning (literally) and regular refreshment at our local pub, The Park Tavern, we’ve been kept quite sane and pretty motivated.
We’ve picked up some snazzy low tables from the local drum shop.
I found the typo slightly amusing.
So this weekend, both Slaveboy and I will be off to Southampton’s Ikea where there would be a race to see who would lose the will to live first thus more deserving of the hotdog and at the same time we will be catching 15 year old Lalla compete in her diving completion.
Hopefully next week will see the oven delivery, the kitchen tiled and the counters built.
Yes, I do believe in fairies.
And so should you.