We’re in

October 6th, 2003

At bloody last, that’s us in the new house, and after a weekend of moving the contents of boxes around (After plenty of removals help from family and friends) we’ve somehow still got a house full of boxes. Never mind, it’s just great to be in my own bed once again.

Castle Beveridge is in need of a few tins of paint though, but that’ll have to wait.

The important thing is that we’ve discovered that the local chippy, Chinese and Indian take-aways are all placed next to each other at the top of the street. Chippy wasn’t so good, Chinese is above average and Indian review still to come.

In a strange twist of fate, we’ve employed the previous occupant as a dog walker. He’ll be coming round each lunchtime to take mutt for a run around the local fields. I kinda feel sorry for him in a way because it means he’ll get to witness the destruction of his carefully decorated kitchen which he spend 20 years putting together before moving out; a pain that most people need never experience.

The return of my old bed means that the strange dreams have stopped altogether. Mind you, the first night was disturbed by a nightmare involving the bloody death of my afore-mentioned dog. It was only after the visions had woken me up, that I realised that the dog was lying in the bed sleeping, but whimpering loudly at her own nightmare which was probably what made me have my own. Spooky.

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