Life for Lola

I've got a Butler's sink. Lucky old me. My place of work is being gutted as we are moving to a new building and the old one, built in the 1950's is being raised to the ground. There are a few of these lovely sinks dotted around but I've plumped for the one in the medical room which is smaller and just the thing for my country cottage kitchen - when I get one. It's a nice sink and if it could talk I bet it could tell a story or two I'm sure. I bet it's had no amount of blood - and worse - splattered around it's white sides.

It was a bugger to shift, I must thank Rugger Bugger Matthew Szurgot for helping lift it. It made my hair curl when I tried to budge it. He lifted it up like Atlas and didn't break a bead of sweat. He's a good lad. My fantasy lad infact. He's going to lend me some of his dungeonsy dragonsy computer games. He's a very nice young man, I'd take him home to meet mother but he'd be too busy playing with his joystick.