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Fill in the room and place labels-on the plan of the house.

F

Fill the gaps with a suitable word.

1. I've got a darkroom in the................................. where I develop films. It's perfect because there are no windows down there.

2. Is there a................................. where I can plug in this radio?

3. You'd better have a................................ under your drink in case you mark that side-table. It's an antique.

4. The waste-bin's full again. I'll empty it. Are there any more.................................? Where are they?

5. We keep our skis up in the................................. during the summer. They're out of the way up there.

6. You'll find the garden-chairs in the................................. at the bottom of the garden. Bring them up and we'll have a drink on the................................. and watch the sunset.

7. The light-switch for the stairs is on the................................. as you come out of yourbedroom.

8. I've moved to a................................. now as I found I couldn't manage the stairs any more at my age.

 

Answer these questions about yourself and, if possible, find out how someone else would answer them.

1. Is your house detached? What sort is it if not?

2. Are time-shares common in any part of your country?

3. Do houses still have pantries in your country?

4 Is it common to rent bedsits in your country? If so, what sorts of people do so?

 

Everyday objects.

1. How can you make very small pieces of cheese to sprinkle on a dish?

2. What might you fetch if someone dropped a saucer and it broke into small pieces on the floor?

3. What could you put under a dinner plate to prevent it marking the table? .

4. How can you switch off the TV without leaving your chair?

 

TEXTS (interior).

Text 1.

We arrived in a smaller gallery, perhaps the size of a tennis court with a rectangular, twenty-four-seat table stretched down the middle. Robert Isabell was worth it, I could see. He was the New York party planner, the only one who could be trusted to strike just the right note with astonishing attention to detail: fashionable without being trendy, luxe but not ostentatious, unique without being over the top. Miranda insisted that Robert do everything, but the only time I’d ever seen his work before was at Cassidy and Caroline’s birthday party. I knew he could manage to turn Miranda’s colonial-style living room into a chic downtown lounge (complete with soda bar—in martini glasses, of course—ultra-suede, built-in banquettes, and a fully heated, tented balcony dance floor with a Moroccan theme) for ten-year-olds, but this was truly spectacular.

Everything glowed white. Light white, smooth white, bright white, textured white, and rich white. Bundles of milky white peonies looked as if they grew from the table itself, deliciously lush but low enough to allow people to talk over them. Bone white china (with a white checked pattern) rested on a crisp white linen tablecloth, and high-backed white oak chairs were covered in luscious white suede (the danger!), all atop a plush white carpet, specially laid for the evening. White votive candles in simple white porcelain holders gave off a soft white light, highlighting (but somehow not burning) the peonies from underneath and providing subtle, unobtrusive illumination around the table. The only color in the entire room came from the elaborate multihued canvases that hung on the walls surrounding the table, shocking blues and greens and golds from the depictions of early Egyptian life. The white table as a deliberate contrast to the priceless, detailed paintings was exquisite.



As I turned my head around to take in the wonderful contrast of the color and the white (“That Robert really is a genius!”), a vibrant red figure caught my eye. In the corner, standing ramrod straight under a looming painting was Miranda, wearing the beaded red Chanel that had been commissioned, cut, fitted, and precleaned just for tonight. And although it’d be a stretch to say that it had been worth every penny (since those pennies added up to tens of thousands of dollars), she did look breathtaking. She herself was an objet d’art, chin jutted upward and muscles perfectly taut, a neoclassical relief in beaded Chanel silk. She wasn’t beautiful—her eyes were a bit too beady and her hair too severe and her face much too hard—but she was stunning in a way I couldn’t make sense of, and no matter how hard I tried to play it cool, to pretend to be admiring the room, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. “

1. What kind of room is described here?

2. What kind of impression does this text give you?

3. Which adjectives does the author use to give this impression?

4. How does the author give to the reader the idea of luxury?

Text 2.

“Here she is,” he announced grandly.

I walked in first, expecting to be hit with an overpowering smell of sulfur or perhaps see a few bats winging their way around our ceiling, but it was surprisingly clean and bright. The kitchen was on the right, a narrow, one-person-wide strip with white tile floors and reasonably white Formica cabinets. The countertops were some sort of flecked granite imitation, and there was a microwave built in above the stove.

“This is great,” my mom said, pulling open the refrigerator. “It’s already got ice trays.” The movers pushed past us, grunting while they lugged my bed.

The kitchen opened to the living room, which had already been divided in two by a temporary wall to create a second bedroom. Of course, that meant that all the windows had been cut out of the living room entirely, but that was OK. The bedroom was a decent size—definitely bigger than the one I’d just left—and the sliding glass door leading to the balcony made up one whole wall. The bathroom was between the living room and the real bedroom and was done in Pepto pink tiling and pink paint. Oh well. Could be kitschy. I walked into the real bedroom, which was significantly bigger than the living room one and looked around. A tiny closet, a ceiling fan, and a small, dirty window that looked directly into an apartment in the building next door. Lily had wanted this one and I’d happily agreed. She preferred having the extra space since she spent so much time in her bedroom studying, but I’d rather have the light and the balcony entrance.

“Thanks, Lil,” I whispered to myself, knowing that Lily couldn’t possibly hear me.

“What’d you say, honey?” my mom asked, coming up behind me.

“Oh, nothing. Just that Lily did really, really well. I had no idea what to expect, but this is great, don’t you think?”

She looked like she was trying to find the most tactful way of saying something. “Yes, for New York, it’s a great apartment. It’s just hard to imagine paying so much and getting so little. You know your sister and Kyle only pay fourteen hundred a month total for their condo, and they have central air, marble bathrooms, brand-new dishwasher and washer-dryer, and three bedrooms and two bathrooms?” she pointed out, as if she were the first to make this realization. For $2,280 you could get a beachfront townhouse in LA, a three-story condo on a tree-lined street in Chicago, a four-bedroom split-level in Miami, or a goddamn castle with a moat in Cleveland. Yes, we knew this.

“And two parking spots, access to the golf course, gym, and pool,” I added helpfully. “Yeah, I know. But believe it or not, this is a great deal. I think we’ll be very happy here.”

She hugged me. “I think you will be, too. As long as you don’t work too hard to enjoy it,” she said lightly.

1. What kind of dwelling is described here?

2. How do you think, what kind of person could have rented it?

3. Is the total impression of this flat good or bad?

4. Would you like to live in such an apartment?

(Both texts are by LAUREN WEISBERGER)

Space: expanse and confinement


Date: 2015-12-17; view: 3553


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