the week we all moved in together

The cats aren’t ours, they live at work.

The Big Spoon and I and our dog and two guinea pigs had been sleeping at the new house since last Wednesday, because I got so tired of being sensible and waiting until it made sense. We were on an air bed, which I thought was fine but apparently didn’t agree with his bony back.

Tuesday, the Tank hired a van he knew how to drive, and we all got our actual furniture moved from two houses into one house. That fit as well as you would imagine – we could cater a wedding as long as they liked that mismatched cottagecore vibe. Also, he now definitely wants a van. I said sure, when my premium bond comes in.

Wednesday, my premium bond came in, but for £25. I said I’d spend it on a new Leuchtturm but actually I might get rubber boots instead…

because Friday was our first snowfall. The Healer had all week off work and spent Friday sewing Christmas presents for her family, after spending the rest of the week doing all the hard bits of cleaning and organising us into something you could describe as a team.

The Big Spoon is back on his Twitch streaming routine! The internet is twice as fast here as at the old house – same company, just smoother wires.

I’ve not written a daaamn thing. Not even sat at the desk with the cursor blinking. It’s just been. I dunno. Looking around each room and flailing at how much we have, how it’s all going to fit together in use, and how we’re going to empty each room in turn when the time comes to decorate.

None of us filmed ourselves learning to steam wallpaper or sand gloss skirting or paste up lining paper, and it was all meant to be part of the YouTube project. We just couldn’t hold Doing and Capturing in our heads at the same time.

That’s probably not it, but wouldn’t it be nice if it was?