I’ve more or less successfully moved in now, though I shall still be unpacking in January, I fear. It was mostly adventure free, apart from the following:
I discovered that my washing machine won’t actually fit in the space provided. I did not realise my washing machine was such an oversized freak. I hate laundrettes, (or laundromats, to my US friends), so I need to solve this quandary fast!
I discovered, when moving it, that my futon had gone horribly mouldy underneath. My own damn fault for leaving it in one place for 5 years, but I don’t much fancy sleeping on it any more. Thank goodness for the sofabed that I inherited from Frank.
But who care? I’ve got a house!
Hmm, I wonder which of these boxes has my food in.
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