Behind the cooker

I’m having my flat given a lick of paint to make it shiny before putting it on the market, and in order to make it easy for the decorator to paint where he needs to paint, I’ve been cleaning as well as the decluttering mentioned in the last post. The final place I cleaned – and the one which had been on my mind since the start – was behind/under my cooker.

I haven’t moved the cooker in the ten years I’ve been living in the flat. It’s a bit more slimline than the space it fits into, so anything that spills, rolls, falls or is magnetically drawn to the gap down the sides must still be there (the thought that things might NOT still be there fills me with a sense of biotic horror).

Anyway, I braced myself, and this is what I found:

As well as dust, breadcrumbs, tortellini, broccoli and peppercorns, I found:

  • broken glass and a candle
  • a knife, a vegetable peeler and a corncob fork
  • a vitamin catalogue
  • a device for cutting the metal off wine bottle tops
  • a jar lid and assorted beer bottle caps

Alarmingly, I also discovered:

  • scorched electrical cable
  • scorched floorboards
  • scorched gas pipe (just above the yellow sticker in the picture) !!!

This has become a bit of a theme – as well as these burn marks, I have more on my opposite kitchen wall from the coils of the fridge, in my bedroom from a hot transformer (which was running for three years after I threw away the device it was attached to, Christ on a bike), and another from a lightbulb. And a few weeks ago my light switch exploded. How I haven’t gone up in flames I’ll never know.

  1. words escape me.

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