Slowly, the floor in our lounge is being revealed. Books are on shelves, clothes are in drawers and hanging in wardrobes. Food is in fridge, crockery is in cupboards (both plates, both bowls, both cups, both glasses), cutlery is… erm, not in a drawer.
For some strange reason, the designers of our kitchen decided that drawers were just so last century that they couldn't bear to put any in. So I'm not sure what I am going to do with our various and assorted hand-held non-mechanical food preparation and eating tools, because they just don't really like being in cupboards.
I have a phone number. This is the first step in getting broadband, which I will admit I am missing dreadfully. Not missing the TV at all, though. Badly missing radio.
Location is fantastic. Half an hour for T'Other to get to work, 40 mins for me. Waitrose, Morrisons, Marks and Sparks, cinema and leisure centre all within a stone's throw. New Arsenal stadium possibly within rocket launcher range. Shame I don't have one.
Intentions to get fit, sort out diet, start writing (damn) book abound. All good, all somewhat resembling paving slabs. Or possibly cobbles. If it were up to me, I'd cobble the road to hell, just for that extra scrap of ankle-twisting-ness.
So, in short, I am a happy bunny. And who knows… maybe once we have internet access, I might blog more and attempt to regain my previous heights bloggy excellence. Or maybe you'll just have to continue putting up with this old shite.
What did I used to write about, anyways?
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