...and hating every moment of it!
I have moved house 14 times over 3 continents and I'm well and truely OVER IT.
Pack boxes, move boxes, unpack boxes, pack boxes, move boxes, unpack boxes. I'm sensing a very boring pattern.
This time I'm moving in with my beau. Logically I am hesitant to give up my 'plan B'. Plan B is a pesimistic sod and says that "this is too good to be true and therefore can't last so it's best to have a back-up."
Plan 'Reality' says "you haven't been home in 3 months and all your stuff is being eaten by rodents including your beautiful vintage fabrics... boo hoo, and can you really justify a pretty cottage holiday home in the country right now?".
Plan Reality has won and I am on the move.
My next dilemma has been that my lovely man has lived alone for a looong time. He, like me, has a house FULL of stuff.
Except his is BOY STUFF. And mine is NANNA STUFF.And therfore overwhelmingly, well, overwhelming!
How do I do this? Subtly remove the pictures of him racing motorbikes... ...or blatently let him know his stuff is hideous as all hell?
I think we have achieved a compromise, in this 3 bedroomed and 2 loungroomed house there should be room for us both, so the 10thousand motorbike parts have been shifted and the crochet is movin' on in! He can have his ugly boy-room, and I will have my cozy craft room and all are happy.
Craft night anyone?