Ted, rather than Bob, the builder has started work. The entire contents of the kitchen cupboards are now stored in the spare room in boxes and bulging carrier bags.

This is quite handy really because I know which box the left-over Christmas luxury Belgian chocolate biscuits are in and can just about manage to reach them with my left hand while typing with the right.

If I swap hands I can reach daughter's bag containing her secret sweetie supplies with the right hand so I am sorted really, except for not being able to type very well with the left hond, sorry, the left hand.

The new kitchen is being stored in our bedroom until it can be fitted.

Being incredibly organised and efficient I arranged for it to be delivered early while I was still on my week off work.

Being rather stupid I forgot it wasn't flat-packed and would take up considerably more room than flat-packed units.

We couldn't put it in the shed because the tumble-dryer and the kitchen table are in there.

We couldn't put it in the bathroom because the washing machine and the kitchen chairs are in there.

So the bed is surrounded by tottering piles of cabinets balanced on top of each other and which threaten to fall on top of us at any moment.

This makes going to bed much more exciting than usual.

There is a small pathway through the cabinets so we can get through to the chest of drawers for clean underwear and another small pathway to the bed so we can actually get into it when we need to sleep.

We are trying to keep the living room relatively normal while all the work goes on so we have one room at least we can be comfortable in.

The kitchen, in contrast, has become this vast cavernous space, much bigger than I remember it being.

It seems a shame to put anything at all in it really. Perhaps we should go really minimalist but I doubt we would be able to manage with just the kettle and the microwave for more than a week.

Not being able to cook is quite cool because it means making dinner is a case of calling the local takeaway or buying ready-made food. To save on washing up, which has to be done in the bathroom sink, we have stopped using plates when at all possible.

Daughter very kindly offered to eat microwaved pizza for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day for a week "to make things easier", she said.

Him indoors said he was quite happy to get a meal at the pub in the evenings and could easily go to the cafe round the corner for breakfast to save anyone having to phone the takeaway or nip down to Asda.

I was a bit too concerned about them both getting a total lack of nutrition to let them get away with this though and declined their unselfish and well meant offers.

I, of course, shall just lunch with a friend each day so I won't need any dinner at night.