Continuous Improvement

While we're on the subject of shelving from the Underworld IKEA, I thought I'd share with you my appreciation of a couple of little innovations I discovered while I was assembling it. Here they are:

I suppose I should have added something to the photo to give an idea of scale, but as one of them is an Allen key that should help.

Tightening Allen bolts to their right tightness (which, as any Yorkshireman will be able to tell you, is called being "right tight") was always a bit tricky, and I'm guessing that for many of IKEA's customers, the tool itself was a little uncomfortable for their soft, pampered, 21st-century hands. So they've included a holder! This unassuming length of strong black polypropylene takes a standard IKEA Allen key, and provides (a) a comfy grip and (b) exactly the right length for delivering the correct torque to the business end, ensuring a perfect assemblage of your bits.

It gets better.

The plastic is stamped with a bold "5" on one end and a "4" on the other, suggesting that it is in fact an Allen torque wrench with two settings. The instructions accompanying the Hemnes called for the key to be inserted in the 5 end, which is where it remains (although I've pulled it out a bit to make it more obvious. When fully inserted it doesn't look all that much like an Allen key). How cool is that?

So what - I *know* you're wondering - is the other little guy?

If you've ever struggled to hold those fiddly little panel pins that are supplied with many of IKEA's shelving units to hold the back panels in place, you'll be more than impressed with this. It's a nifty little panel pin holder. The sharp end is ribbed to provide extra grip, the round end has a little hole in the middle to take a panel pin, and the whole thing is split down the middle, so once you've knocked your panel pin into the wood a few millimetres you just give it a tug and it comes away, leaving the pin standing proud, ready to be knocked in the rest of the way. Flippin' brilliant.

This is what I like about IKEA. Already market leaders in affordable flat-pack furniture for the masses, they could easily sit around and bask in their greatness. But no. They continue to add cool innovations like this to make their customers' lives that bit easier. Thanks IKEA! 

There's just one thing though. Being just lowly items in the bag of bits that come with - for example - Hemnes, these little guys don't actually have IKEAse names of their own. I think we should invent some. Here's a starter for ten: the pin holder chap could be PLONKIT, and the Allen-key-holder TORK (see what I did there?). What do you think?

Shelving of the Underworld

Quite why the IKEA marketing department thought it was a good idea to name this after a Greek god escapes me for the moment. I mean, I could understand it if Hermes had been the God of Storage, but as it is, he's, according to Wikipedia, "... the great messenger of the gods [and] a guide to the Underworld."

He was, apparently, "... the patron of boundaries and of the travelers who cross them, of shepherds and cowherds, of the cunning of thieves, of orators and wit, of literature and poets, of athletics and sports, of weights and measures, of invention, and of commerce in general."

Hmm. Absolutely nothing there about storage. I guess if you chose to keep books in the unit there'd be a tenuous link to literature, but that's about it.

Wikipedia continues: "His symbols include the tortoise, the rooster, the winged sandals, the winged hat, and the caduceus." Not a cupboard then?

So I'd written the whole of this (extremely witty, I think you'll agree) post about our new shelving unit when my gaze alighted on the empty box propped up against the wall and I realised what a complete waste of wit it had been. The damn stuff isn't called Hermes at all. It's HEMNES.

First night camping

Well, I say camping. We're on the sofa bed in the study - "camped out" for the duration of the work that's going on in our bedroom. The ceiling is due to come down today, for reasons explained earlier.

Our new IKEA sofa bed "LYCKSELE" (??) proved remarkably comfortable. To say we've left a 6-foot bed and moved to what is effectively a "put-you-up" that's only fractionally wider than a traditional double (4 foot 6), the experience felt nowhere near as cramped as I was expecting. We both agreed that it will be fine for the expected five-week hiatus, and more than adequate as an occasional guest bed. The mattress is firm without being hard, there are no creaks or wobbles from the frame, so all in all the camping is going pretty well on the evidence of one night.

Even the eerie blue light from the PIR detector that clicks on whenever either of us moves has its uses. With dark-adapted eyesight, it illuminates the room very well for those essential nightly sojourns to the bathroom.

There is one blue light that I'll have to do something about though, and this will raise a hollow laugh in at least one young lady reader. That flashing blue light from my PC when it's in sleep mode will have to go. But that's OK. I found the BIOS setting for it this morning. I have the power to change the power down mode :o)

Shifters, shifters, there were never such devoted shifters

It was all hands to the pumps today to help the shifters... shift. The idea being that if each person took responsibility for their own stuff the job would go a lot smoother. Many hands and all that. 'Course the theory falls down when some of them can't make it owing to prior engagements, so we ended up wedging two lots of desktop kit and three people's boxes into the back of the car for the short journey to Cheadle.

Ironically, this was my first sight of Nikki's old offices. Having parked outside them virtually every working day for almost three years when picking her up, I'd never ventured inside. As you might expect from a small office in an old building, they looked very tired. The general demeanour was not helped by the empty desks, piles of boxes, and small heaps of detritus left behind when desks had been moved from positions they'd occupied for 30 years. But even looking beyond that it was clear that the offices would have been quite poky and dark to work in. Narrow corridors, old furniture, and very reminiscent of the kind of working environment I "enjoyed" for at least the first ten years of my career.

We dodged around the professional removals men who were taking the old desks away to a charity auction, and soon had the car loaded up and ready to roll.

The new place is a complete contrast. In fact I get the impression the amount of space has taken everyone by surprise. The phrase I heard most often after arriving there was "it didn't look this big on the plans." Which, you know, is nice for them all. Plenty of light, airy space. Brand new furniture. A newly-fitted kitchen (not yet complete when we were there, but with fitter beavering away), new phones, new network and, for those who had not had flat panel monitors before, all new monitors.

All this newness inspired Nikki to want some new desk accoutrements, so we headed off round the ring road to IKEA and wandered through the store enjoying the fact that we didn't have to rush for once. She found exactly what she was looking for: a set of two stand-up magazine holders and an in-tray (both called, confusingly, DOKUMENT), and we picked up a few things for our place too, including a pair of KASSETT boxes for the study. No amusing ikease names jumped out at us today, sadly.

A quick hop back to the business park, narrowly avoiding the Canada geese that have settled in by the lake, and an even more rapid assembly of Nikki's new in-tray and we were ready to come home and enjoy a midday cuppa. Our leaving was delayed slightly by the arrival of her new IP phone. We had a play with it before we left but disappointingly I was unable to find a CTU ring tone. An admittedly small drawback in the face of all the smart newness.

Fun at IKEA

Bit of an oxymoron you might think, but the daft Swedalike names that IKEA use for all their products never fail to amuse me. I know, I'm a big kid. You have to do something to relieve the boredom during a trip to somewhere like IKEA.

So we dropped in there last night during the journey home on account of Natalie needing some new stuff for her latest student digs, and tickled ourselves helpless at the merchandise's expense.

Later, at the dinner table, we relived the hilarity of the visit for Nikki's benefit and recalled that the woman in front of us at the till had, among her other purchases, a toilet seat.

Not knowing what the actual name of this item is, I set everyone a challenge of inventing an IKEA-type name for it. Here's what we came up with:

POOJAR
POORING
CHET
BUMSIT
ÅRSRING
and, my personal favourite, DOKNUT

It's actual name? Online research reveals it to be almost funnier than anything we came up with. It's called RACKEN.