“I’m so fed up of not having anywhere to put things!”
“Then stop buying shoes.”
It was right about then that Sunday started getting a little tetchy. We had about eighty percent of our things in the new place and the old place was a mess of boxes and electricity cables and sundry debris.
The morning and afternoon had been spent to-ing and fro-ing with Kia Picanto-sized portions of our life. Our new house was coming round slowly, as opposed to leaping up at our chests like a keen puppy. It had its annoying qualities – whenever I tried to hang a picture the wall flaked – and its limitations; storage space.
It doesn’t quite have the old world charm of the little casco apartment we are vacating although it will – without a doubt – be a major upgrade in terms of space, indoors and out. I am particularly excited about our private patio and the open air shade it will provide in the hot months. I will have a garden where I can plant edible things. We’ll see whether anything grows; plants tend to just lie down and die when they see me coming.
“You’re stupid”, said K. More