Ok, so we're moving house again. The Hand has some friends from God-knows-where who have rented The Paris Hilton House. First choice for me would be The Safe House, but The Interior Decorator is not QUITE finished with the new bathroom. The "wow factor" will be worth it...
So it's down the road, still in "the bay", to The Kitesurfer's house - "The Castle" as we like to call it (article on The Castle to follow some day soon I'm sure). The move is down to a fine art, with Mavis on hand to pack and unpack on either side - keeping cupboard arrangements uniform from one place to the next.
So last night, after organising much-needed pool and garden services to come round today, we thought we'd make a little dinner at around 7pm. No, no - that is incorrect. What we WILL be doing, however, is borrowing a new kitchen hob from another house to replace ours. A slightly BIGGER kitchen hob, which MAY require a bit of sawing. This is at 7pm. A time one would like to eat. Using the hob, if possible.
The Kitesurfer - happy as a pig in shit
Yup, you better believe it! Seriously, this is standard shit around here.
I didn't realise what was going on. I was doing my stretching exercises which I do before making dinner, when suddenly the sound of roadworks came permeating through The Castle, causing me to rush to the scene. Is this what you want before making dinner?
