A confession

I have a confession to make.  I love Bunnings.

It's my not-so-secret obsession. Most weekends, there I am, wandering the aisles, picking up paint colours, fondling door handles, musing over mouldings.

I love the blokes in their aprons chatting to each other and everyone else about drill bits and leaky taps. I love that they have heaters blasting hot air over the tellers right near the doorway where cold air is blasting in.

I'm off there again, to pick up handles for my kitchen cupboards. Replacing the stainless steel knobs that I've had for the past ten years with some sleek and sexy long numbers.

I may be gone a while