Weekend number 2 in the new house. Slowly, everso slowly, stuff is coming together.
For example, I actually bought some food to put in the fridge. This will doubtless have a severe impact on the takings of local kebab shop and the chippy.
I have a bowl of oranges on the windowsill in an attempt to demonstrate to the postman that this is a House Of Health. The crate of beer sitting on the kitchen worktop admittedly undermines this appearance somewhat.
And yes, I really have done some damage to my back. I suspect whatever power governs fate (known hereon as The Bastard) took exception to my old-person rant and cursed me to walk like a 95 year-old nursing a full incontinence bag.
I can only hope The Bastard didn't hear the name I ascribed to the elderly gentleman who nearly ran me down ("Sorry, sonny. Didn't see the red light. My eyes aren't what they were, you know...")
