Mean soup

"Chico, you make a mean beetroot soup" you will often hear Mrs Raheny say.
And who am I to contradict a woman of such impeccable taste?
Talking about taste, the bowl of soup is resting on a little piece of bedside furniture (what would one call that, a bedside cabinet?) that's been in the kitchen for a couple of weeks now.
Let's put it this way, Mrs Raheny is not a big fan of the said cabinet.
Neither am I. As far as the shape/material/style is concerned.
But it reminds me of my grandparents, the only bit of furniture that I kept when my grandmother died.
It has moved from our room, to the sitting room downstairs, to the kitchen now.
I know that it is slowly edging its way towards the shed, and from there the skip.

But I will not give Mrs Raheny the pleasure of speeding up the process.

Hang on in there ugly little cabinet.

She is a mean interior designer.

I have made zero progress in the scanning project started yesterday. Mr Smith and Oldmills, you will have to wait for another while before seeing the shot of me and the ladyboys in its full sized glory...