Knock knock

This is my new door. I took the kids over to Fife today to give Mr B some quiet time to get some work done, and for me to wait in for the Virgin man to tell me my walls are too thick to have cable/broadband installed.

Happily, when the man finally arrived, he was persuaded that it was worth checking with his boss whether it could be done and between the two of them they talked up the length of drill bit they had back at the office ("it's THIS long") and confirmed that they could do it. So hopefully I will only have a few blip-free days: that's another big tick on the 'stress-free house move' checklist.

So I oiled some work surfaces (apparently Danish Oil can spontaneously combust. Is it wrong that when I read that I wanted to test it by leaving soaked rags of the stuff in the sun until they exploded? Another time maybe.), and cleaned and moved some old dusty church chairs (including some very cute little kiddy chairs we found in the church loft - along with a cane for whipping the naughty Christian children), and washed the front door. And I even made nice with the neighbour who's been stealing our garden for the past 2 years, putting off everyone we tried to sell the house too. Grumble grumble.

You might have picked up by now that our new house used to be a church. Reduce, reuse, recycle, and all that.