Of plastic.
Or at least a few tiny drops in the form of household objects which I had to buy to complete the itinerary of our recently-renovated annex. People expect certain things when renting - cutlery, a bed, towels, chairs, etc, and, when it's very hot - which it is here, and about to become more so - a fan. Not doing air-con. We can't afford it, and even if we could it just always seems like you get acclimatised to then have a horrible shock being anywhere outside the room/flat/house in question. And it's an environmental nightmare, something that should be used where people need it in order to actually stay alive.
So, a fan . . . and I suppose an iron might be expected. We went off to a vide grenier - (car boot sale/garage sale) and I was most gratified to be able to re-house a lovely, seemingly unused iron and nice chunky fan dating back to perhaps the 90s, both items in super working order and five euros a piece. A boring tramp around one of the hyper-elec goods stored was evaded, and we bought a beautiful pair of ancient, super sharp secateurs and baby onion and beetroot plants, carefully wrapped in newspaper bundles from an amazing elderly couple who probably never ironed anything and if they had a fan it would have dated from around 1946 and still be in excellent service.
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