Here we go.

Those that have been following the saga of our house move will know that after months and months of negotiating, bargaining, anticipating and stoically weathering the tides of an erratic housing market and slowing economy, we are finally coming to the end. We complete the purchase of our first house tomorrow (yay!) and will be making the big move on Thursday (boo!).

While we are a little bit sad to be leaving the delights of Chiswick High Road behind us, there is a lot to which we will bid a happy adieu: not least of which is the grime from the street, the man in the wheelchair who yells appalling rudenesses at all who pass him, the dude with the backpack who walks up and down the street several hundred times a day, the yummy mummies with their designer prams, Colin Firth, and our dear friends the kebab-eating girls who shout up from the street at night. Godspeed, and good luck to you all.





Packing up has been as much of a headache as we anticipated, and our 400 sq feet of floor space is becoming dramatically smaller with each successive box. It's amazing how much stuff we have squirreled away in our little apartment. And the boxes are still piling up with crazy abandon. There is so much more to pack! How will we ever get to the bottom of it all?



Pulling out things from cupboards did yield some delights, however, in the shape of these marshmallow Peeps from Easter 2005, sent to me by the gracious and generous Karen Kawa, who knew that I was craving Peeps desperately. How and why these two lucky survivors are still with us will remain a mystery, but I can say that when I started packing there were four of them. Even after three years in the cupboard, they were delicious.