The Moving Chronicles...

This has been a mad and exhausting week. But we're in our new home and have unpacked enough boxes that we are beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel. (I'm ignoring all boxes marked "books" until we have some new bookshelves!)

We moved in on Tuesday. The lovely men arrived with their huge vehicle at about 11 o'clock and starting shifting furniture, boxes and stuff - I am already regretting not being much more ruthless about getting rid of stuff. They worked like Trojans, bless them (it was nearly 5 when they finished), but it's now apparent that they (or could that be we?) didn't know our left from our right. All my office boxes are in the best beloved's studio, and all his stuff is in my scribbling room.

And we discovered, the hard way, that the door to his room has a dodgy catch. "Shut the door," he said, "I want to see what it looks like." Like the dumb idiot I am, I shut the door. And then we couldn't open it. There we were, on the third floor, without a phone, or a screwdriver, or even a knife, with a heavy firedoor between us and freedom. We looked at the boxes. Did I mention that the guys had put all mine in the best beloved's room? Books, books, books. The BB looked hopefully out of the window, hoping to spot a neighbour to come and rescue us. (They'd already been round to introduce themselves and brought cards to welcome us.)

I ripped open boxes hoping to the find the one with the pen pot that I was sure had a screwdriver in it. Books, books, books, books, books and then, last box, hurrah! the pen pot. But no screwdriver. Pens, pencils, erasers, markers, an emery board (essential kit in every office) and then, lo, in the bottom of the box I found a small pair of scissors that had fallen out of the pot. The blade was deployed and in a bound we were free. But I'm not going anywhere without my phone and a screwdriver in the foreseeable future.

Six days in and we now have a working washing machine (I haven't found the iron yet - and I'm not looking v. hard, although the ironing board keeps attacking me with lethal intent), a dishwasher and a fridge/freezer. Cold milk. Bliss.

We've found the local pub, The Black Horse, which does great grub, a Tesco Express - both within walking distance - and we have a shopping park a mile and a half up the road where we have spent vast quantities of money on white goods (actually they're black, but who's arguing) and DIY essentials, like bathroom mirrors. I left everything - these people took everything. Except the cooker. I really wish they had taken that. Today is buying a new cooker day, so that I can cook and put the new dishwasher to good use.

We also have to move a tall, glass fronted cabinet. We had two places where we could have put it. We chose the wrong one.

We can now see the carpet, have only one box left in the kitchen and some time next week I might even begin to think about my office. No point in unpacking the computer until I have a desk. Any hints of favourites would be welcome. I don't want one of those complicated computer desks, but I do like a keyboard shelf - a table is a little high for me.

Oh, and these gorgeous flowers arrived yesterday from the lovely Kate Hardy. When I see her in September she's going to get a really big hug!

Oh, and my Harlequin Romance, The Last Woman He'd Ever Date was published retail in the US this week. One of my readers had to remind me about that on Twitter!