I’m currently broadband-bereft, so I'm typing this on a smart-phone. My fat, little paint-splattered fingers are feeling a little clumsy, so apologies for any spelling mustekes.
We've moved into our new house. This involved some military-style planning. Armed only with cardboard boxes, gaffer tape, a haphazard system of packing, and a hired lorry, we transported ourselves and all our earthly belongings into our new house. I kept humming the theme from the A-Team and shouting catchphrases at my husband, including: “Stop your jibber-jabber, fool,” and “I love it when a plan comes together.” This only stopped when he chloroformed me and put me on a plane.