Saturday, 3 March 2007

A new house

I'm not moving. I'm staying here. The house may be falling down and looking like a skip but it's my home. Dig, on the other hand, is in two minds. He's cruising about online estate agents in Pretty Land looking for houses for sale. He's seen a house and he wants to go and look at it. The estate agent says we can view it on Monday at 1pm. It's just a short three-hour journey up the motorway. And a short three-hour journey back.

I look at the details. Re's Cottage is tiny. It has one bedroom, bathroom and one room downstairs into which is squeezed a kitchen and sitting area. Dig's already done the calculations and reckons we can sleep six, so long as we roll up the downstairs bed before breakfast. 'It's a bolthole' he says. Which just about suggests the size of it.

During the day I'm in and out the house taking children off for individual shopping duties. Gold ribbon for the princess curtain; bikini for Shark; cheese for Tiger. All the while Dig is researching somewhere to stay for Sunday night. Eventually I get a telephone call. He's found somewhere to stay at the price I'd expect to pay for a small car, but they can do a family room in the East Wing and sleep six to the room. 'Let's have an adventure' says Dig, and I wonder if, right now, I can handle another one.


Michelle said...

why does it need to sleep 6?

grit said...

Aunty Em needs to babysit while we visit the local pub.

Michelle said...

So she's ok about you having a sneaky dirty weekend away then. :-))

grit said...

Oh wow! the very thought! what a great idea! aunty em and the trips can take themselves off to the bolthole and we'll stay at home! hadn't thought of that arrangement!