Hello luvvies! I come to you from neither here nor there!
We're about 87% done with the moving of objects; now we're down to the annoying dregs. Back in the 90s the comedian Jimeoin had a song called The Third Drawer Down Is Full Of Shit, and that is certainly true in our kitchen. Broken candles, batteries, guitar tuning thingos; seventy-five varieties of cold and flu tablets.
The new house is brilliant. The landlord left us a bottle of wine, flowers, soap and two rolls of loo paper! Renting is cool – all the novelty of a new abode without the buttock-clenching drama of a mortgage.
We've got no mobile phone reception and the broadband's not connected yet, so well behind with all online thingies. Apologies for the even crappier than usual email response times!
Meanwhile, the grass is lovely. On Sunday arvo I emerged briefly from the Jungle o' Boxes to appreciate the view out the lounge room window. Birdwatching report:
- a robin
- some tiny black thing with white splodges on its face
- flock of geese in tidy V formation
- flock of seagulls returning home after hard day at the rubbish tip.
There is also a wee shop three minutes walk down the road which sells fresh bread, Yeo Valley yogurt and dangerously, my favourite bacon that was previously only obtainable at the monthly farmer's market. If not for the strange lack of Green & Blacks chocolate it would be total foodie ponce heaven. Our old corner shop only sold Regal King Size cigarettes, tabloid newspapers and Whiskas.