Moving house!


Sometimes we just try to do too much! Following my return from the impromptu ski trip last week my next task was to move house. The truth is I should never have gone skiing in the first place – I left myself little time and lots to do, which we all know is a poor combination. I had barely packed an item or emptied a draw before I set off to go skiing.

I departed on the Sunday morning straight after a mornings work, returned on the Wednesday evening and had morning shows on the Thursday and Friday. During the moments in between, I just packed frantically with lots of madness but no method. I'd left it too late to book a removals company, so I roped in two strapping rugby boys, rented a van, and we all mucked in.

It was all going smoothly considering the lack of preparation, driving the van was fun and hoarding the contents between properties felt like good exercise. After a few hours we closed the door on my old place with fond smiles, ready to embrace the new. I'd already measured all the rooms and checked all the furniture would fit, I even toyed with where to place things in my head. But there was a gaping hole in my plan (or not as it seemed). The sofa! It would definitely fit in the lounge if only I could get it through the front door.

We tried every approach, every angle, even threw some maths into the equation. No chance. There was only one thing to do, remove the door itself! So now the saying goes; as one door closes another one causes problems.

N.B. The sofa is now snugly place but the living room door won't close! I rest my case.

Chloe x


  1. Jean Andrews September 18, 2013 at 5:54 pm -  Reply

    Chloe – you are going from strength to strength at the moment. You are becoming a very good saleswoman for QVC. You are very natural and very enthusiastic. Well done!

  2. Jean Andrews September 18, 2013 at 6:02 pm -  Reply

    I see you are also a teddy bear addict. I actually make them – not to sell them. I just give them to my family and friends. I still have five of my own which share my bed (if there is enough room) at night, which is obviously a bit eccentric for someone nearly 75. Mine always have jointed arms and legs and are washable in the machine. I don’t really approve of bears being collectors items – they are meant to be loved and to comfort children (or other people). I have a silver tabby cat, not a dog.
    My tabby is on his own now, because the two older ones went to pussy heaven because they were both well past sell by date ( over 16) and really quite ill. My little (or rather younger one) is almost 5 and is hyper intelligent and hyper naughty. Keep up the good work

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