The new place is starting to look a bit more like home now. We’re actually in it, for a start, properly. No more camping out and grabbing clothes from backpacks. We have a lovely new bed, complete with lovely new mattress and bedclothes (bedclothes that, for a touch of nostalgia, are patterned with an old map of southeast London. Our old flat is on the pillowcases). We have a comfy sofa that we will try (in vain) to convince the dogs they are not sharing with us. The TV is set up, the shelves are built and crammed with books. I can get up earlier than the rest of the household and not worry about waking up three other people (CM doesn’t count because experience has taught me that he can sleep through almost anything). There’s still some chaos, but now we can stop and breathe and look at the next step – which basically amounts to moving out again.
Oh god, the next step. Those steps never stop coming, huh? Continue reading