Mrs F. an I were sitting in front of the fire: her reading and throwing dead mice into the flames while I was ambling through a couple of weeks colour supplements when I ripped a page out and put it to one side. Mrs F. picked it up and moves into the Roger Moore thing she does with her eyebrow. The page contained on one side a men's fashion page featuring coats that she knows I couldn't afford, the other side a photo of Leonardo Di Crappio. The other eyebrow went up.
What I wanted was the coats; most of which were dull blues and browns. These were sliced up into small squares. Glazing was added using the nice piece of clear plastic that comes with the kit box, and the top floor wndows had the small sqares of pretty paper added unevenly to each side as above.
I walked back into the front room where Mrs F. was now roasting a roadkill squirel on the poker. 'Nets!' I shouted, 'How do I do nets?' Mrs F. dropped the half cooked rodent onto the carpet and walked into the kitchen and handed me a box. 'Greasproof paper?' Perfect.