Eight

...days until we move into the new house. I have decided to keep an online diary of the countdown. After that, who knows what will happen, as there may be a delay with getting the broadband up and running. One of the contractors (damp-proofing man maybe, though no-one will accept responsibility) hacked off the phone socket. We are awaiting the attentions of Openreach (the bit of BT that actually does the wiring)...

Today we took two carloads of stuff up to the house. The first time I said 'we must remember the camera next time'. The second time we forgot the camera again. So no pictures of the fantastic patterns the melting snow is leaving on the fields above the house. I expect they will be gone by tomorrow as the thaw is in full spate - water running down our new road, and trickling loudly in the gutter. We took boxes of books and CDs and kitchen stuff, and black bags full of clothes in the first load, plants and window boxes from the front yard in the second.

The house was once again a hive of activity (note to self - do not use this phrase again in the next seven days). The decorator was up a ladder painting the hall ceiling, the plumber had fixed the new ballcock in the toilet and was busy trying to get to the bottom of the pressure drop in the heating system - leaky radiators, which he 'nipped up', leaving the house warm again a couple of hours later. The floor sanding man arrived just as we did the first time, to do the light sand between coats of stain in our bedroom, fussed a lot about the lack of heat, though I assured him the plumber would sort it, then left an electric heater on in the room to ensure proper 'curing'. Notable by his absence was the electrician. Tomorrow first thing L will be on the phone to our builder who oversees the whole crew, to demand in the strongest possible terms that he gets on with it pronto. The ground is certainly soft enough now to get the earth rod in... The decorator could do with being able to work later than 4.00 when it gets too dark for painting by natural light.

I swept up a lot of plaster dust and rubble from my blue room floor, rather shocked at how dusty the bags and boxes already in there had become. Stacked everything neatly in the corner, out of the electrician's way. L swept up a bit downstairs and we both chatted to the guys about floors, walls, radiators, absent electricians... On our second visit, the plumber was just leaving, the house now empty, so we peacefully went from room to room, inspecting, absorbing, noting things still in need of sorting (leftover timber from the kitchen floor, old doors, old carpet to be got rid of, doormat to buy for the mat well, a cheap solution for the bathroom floor needed- currently dirty and pretty rough and ready boards...) I fretted that I am not sure I like the colour on the kitchen walls. The red 'feature walls' not yet done, so probably too soon to make a judgement, we reasoned. The radiators were very hot, so we turned the heating down a little. The house felt calm, light, spacious, waiting.

We came home to a late lunch of pizza, and felt totally exhausted, not for the first or last time. L looked through the job application I've been working on, and gave me a few suggestions. I could not take them in at all, finally realised I couldn't keep my eyes open, so went and lay down, and fell fast asleep immediately... An hour later, I feel somewhat refreshed, my eyes still gritty from plaster dust. Now I will amend the job application and aim to send it off tomorrow, before things become too chaotic to contemplate such a task. The job is writing-related, and local. I can say no more...