Answer time! Now, some of these may not be the ‘right’ answer, and some of them are definitely my own personal delusions.

1. What’s the name of the metal bit that goes around a fireplace? Not the mantelpiece, but the bit around the bottom that isn’t the grate? I’ve found two and they’re really heavy!

This is indeed a fender. They are heavy and I don’t like them.

2. What’s the proper name for a hod-d-d-d?

A floor-sweeper. The push-me-pull-you kind with the twirly brush. This particular model was a sort of weird brown coloured ‘Ewbank’ from the 70s. ‘A hod-d-d-d-d’ is what Eddie Izzard calls them, a reference my mother would immediately get.

3. What’s an elbow chair when it’s at home?

Turns out it’s just an arm chair. How dull.

4. What’s the name of that man who was like an inventor or something and his first name was like an adjective?

This was indeed Capability Brown.

5. What’s the proper name for like a manual screwdriver where you turn a handle to make it go?

A brace and bit, apparently. (and you can bet I’ve got that the wrong way round) Though I insist on calling it a drill to annoy my parents.

6. What’s a vinaigrette?

It’s like a pomander, but you put it on your chatelaine and stick vinegar in it and it’s like a smelling salts thing. It’s also a sauce, but it seems more likely that I was meant to be looking for the smelly thing.

7. Why would you need a skirt-lifter on a chatelaine?

Right this is where my psychosis outs itself. Basically, the real reason you need a skirt-lifter on a chatelaine is (rather sensibly) as a means of hooking your skirt out of the way when you’re working or whatever.

You see, I thought it was for hooking other people’s skirts. My Mum, understandably, asked why on Earth you would want to hook someone else’s skirt. The only answer I had? “Well to see if they’ve got something under there, like a midget. You know how when the IRA used to plant car bombs and they had a mirror on a stick to look for the bombs? I thought it was like that.”

Clearly I watch too much TV.

8. What’s a plumb bob for? Fishing?

Indeed, this is for levels. Though the name makes it sound like it’s for weighing plums, if I’m honest. Or maybe plumbers.

9. What’s this?

It’s a lock for a sash window.

10. What’s a custard glass?

A glass for putting custard in. Obviously.

11. What’s a fish kettle look like? Cause I’ve heard the phrase ‘a kettle of fish’.

Rather disappointingly, it’s just a big pan, vaguely shaped like a fish. It’s also heavy and dirty, and no amount of me saying ‘well it’s a proper Aga one’ is going to make me like it.

12. Is a teapoy like a teapot but spelt wrong?

Yes. Yes it is. (No it’s not, it’s a table).

13. What’s that thing like a canoe but round and they make them in Ironbridge?

A coracle!

Thanks for playing everyone! JG and MMM between them got almost all the answers, I think. Although in fairness, I don’t think anyone could have guessed I thought that the police in the 70s were checking for IRA car bombs and midgets under the skirts of Victorian ladies with specialist equipment.

When I’m at work, I phone my mother a lot. I mean a lot. Bordering on harassment.

Now that I’m in charge of the inventory project at work, I find myself with lists of items, searching for their real-life counterparts in various rooms. I’m currently in the dank dark depths of the uncatalogued store-room, and so encounter many items whose purpose eludes me. Also I’ve been kind of stressed, and physically exhausted. It’s gotten to the point where my brain has stopped working altogether, and I can no longer remember most of the words I once knew. This combination of ignorance and forgetfulness means that I often phone my mother to ask her what on earth it is that I have uncovered, or what it is I’m supposed to be looking for.

The problem is that I’m so utterly useless that the questions themselves are stupidly vague and often inaccurate. So it’s time for a quiz! Can you cope with randomness of my questioning? Here’s a few examples from this week.

(Answers may not be factually correct)

1. What’s the name of the metal bit that goes around a fireplace? Not the mantelpiece, but the bit around the bottom that isn’t the grate? I’ve found two and they’re really heavy!

2. What’s the proper name for a hod-d-d-d?

3. What’s an elbow chair when it’s at home?

4. What’s the name of that man who was like an inventor or something and his first name was like an adjective?

5. What’s the proper name for like a manual screwdriver where you turn a handle to make it go?

6. What’s a vinaigrette?

7. Why would you need a skirt-lifter on a chatelaine?

8. What’s a plumb bob for? Fishing?

9. What’s this?

10. What’s a custard glass?

11. What’s a fish kettle look like? Cause I’ve heard the phrase ‘a kettle of fish’.

12. Is a teapoy like a teapot but spelt wrong?

13. What’s that thing like a canoe but round and they make them in Ironbridge?

Any answers? All will be revealed soon!

I love my job. I know that not many people get to say that, and that it certainly won’t be the case for ever.

But right now: I love my job.

It is exhausting. It causes physical pain from aching muscles, sometimes. I have a desk, which I share with dead insects. When I got there on Friday, I had a ‘present’ on my desk: a tiger-skin rug with big creepy black holes where the eyes used to be. It is so cold in the house that I’d be better off going and standing in the greenhouse. I have to wear two pairs of socks to stop my feet going numb. I might start using a pedometer to track how many miles I walk over that house every week – if I don’t have gorgeously toned legs by the end of this year, there is NO JUSTICE.

I really love it. I hope it stays this great for as long as possible, and I hope I continue to appreciate it too. The time will come when I get fed up with it, when I get too tired and it becomes too easy. But right now it is EVERYTHING that I worked for, for the last year and a half of my life. And it was worth it – I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Do you like my new headband, by the way? I’m loving it. I feel all Women’s Land Army in it, and it makes me look spookily like my great aunts.