After a week of moving boxes, furniture, an unhappy Cat and the remaining tat we’ve accumulated that hasn’t fallen victim to the life laundry (yet) by the 30th March we were finally ready to spend the first night in our new home. We still have tenancy of the rental until the end of April so we had the luxury of being able to move at a slightly less panicked pace than normal. We’ve settled in quickly, it feels like home already. We were still surrounded by boxes and chaos but we were in and ready to sit back, put our feet up, pour a glass of something cold, French and fizzy and celebrate being homeowners. (I’m still not sure about the armchair – but it can stay – for the moment).
The ineviatble pain that goes with keeping an outdoor cat in for as long as you can bear after moving house began.
The boxes that we still needed to unpack came in really handy as a makeshift wall to stop him from climbing the chimney as a possible escape route.
We had our first guest on Saturday. Garrett came over for a pub crawl, meal out and house warming. We had a lovely evening in Chippy and a delicious meal at Cafe Le Raj then headed home for a couple of drinks and a chill out with a movie.
I changed into my comfy clothes pre-movie and as I headed back down the aforementioned narrow, winding stairs I slipped down the bottom two steps. One leg went one way and the other leg stayed where it was. After a very bad night and a lot of pain we headed to The John Radcliffe on Sunday morning (which I am very happy to say is still our nearest A&E, it’s a great hospital and if it’s good enough for Harrison Ford it’s good enough for me) I wasn’t planing on crutches and a knee brace being my fashion accessories for my return to work on Monday! Luckily it was just a bad sprain and no ligament damage but damn – it hurt (and still does)