The First Dispatch from Poland

This week's missive comes, for the first time, directly from Toruń, Poland.

Mrs Bailey is in full interior design mode, while my father-in-law and I have been promoted to volunteer furniture movers and general porters.

During the sweltering heat of a 36-degree Polish Monday, I somehow found myself carrying a desk home on a tram and a connecting bus. Fellow passengers looked at me as though I'd taken leave of my senses, although one older gentleman caught my eye and seemed to convey, without saying a word, "I know that pain." It felt very much like one husband recognising another.

Noel Coward's Mad Dogs and Englishmen came to mind. Yet it is at that very desk that I now sit, pen in hand, with a fan working overtime beside me.

As absurd as that journey felt, it occurred to me later that this was no ordinary piece of furniture. Every shelf assembled, every wardrobe built and every trip to the DIY shop is another small step towards turning an apartment into our home. After so many years talking about retirement in Poland, there is something quietly satisfying about seeing it begin to take shape, one slightly awkward piece of flat-pack furniture at a time.

I have many skills and, I hope, a few redeeming qualities. Fashion and interior design, however, have passed me by completely.

Tell me you've designed a machine to make water flow uphill and I'd happily build it for you. Ask me to choose between shades of cream or the correct colour for a feature wall, and we are venturing into territory where I possess neither knowledge nor wisdom.

Those decisions are far better left to an expert: Ewelina. Her artistic eye and sense of style are qualities I genuinely admire.

A case in point came after our dental appointment last week. We were enjoying a well-earned beer in one of the many summer beer gardens that fill Toruń's beautiful market square when Ewelina remarked that a young woman's outfit was "edgy".

It is not a word that would ever have entered my vocabulary when describing clothing.

To me, the young lady simply looked stylish. Ewelina saw something more. She noticed the combination of colours, the confidence and the intention behind the look. It reminded me that expertise often lies in seeing details that others simply pass by.

I have spent much of my working life in engineering and facilities management. People sometimes assume it is simply a matter of looking after buildings. They do not see the hundreds of small decisions that keep everything running safely and smoothly.

Interior design strikes me in much the same way. I see a paint colour; Ewelina sees how the light changes it throughout the day, how one texture complements another and how a room will make people feel when they walk through the door. We all have a tendency to underestimate professions we do not understand.

Perhaps that explains why our marriage has survived twenty-one years.

Like many couples, we have settled into an unspoken division of labour. Ewelina has no interest in cooking, so I happily take charge of the kitchen. In return, I do not clean. Quite apart from anything else, my standard of housekeeping would never survive inspection by my wonderfully exacting wife.

These small arrangements quietly lubricate the gears of a happy partnership.

What has amused me most this week is how often my opinion has been sought on colours, furniture and soft furnishings, while quietly suspecting that the decision had already been made long before the question was asked.

Any answer I give is received with appreciation, carefully considered... and then, I suspect, gently ignored.

Does she know she does it? Is it simply a kindness that allows me to feel involved, or am I merely confirming what she already knows to be the right choice?

I suspect generations of married men have wrestled with the same philosophical question.

For my part, I have no objection at all.

Why spend valuable mental energy pretending to have expertise that I simply do not possess? I know good design when I see it, but that is very different from knowing how to create it.

Looking around the flat this evening, I have to admit she was right about every decision. The colours work, the furniture works and, slowly but surely, this apartment is beginning to feel like our home.

I still couldn't tell you whether a cushion is "edgy", mind you.

After all, every successful project needs someone to carry the heavy end.

If you've only recently discovered the blog, you may enjoy reading some of the earlier posts about our journey from London to Poland.