Moving. It’s been three days straight. My hair is sticking out at funny angles. My fingernails are wrecked to the quick. I’m covered in dust and tiredness. Everything I own is shutting out my beautiful new oak floor, forcing my mouth to both droop and spill the odd cackle. In this state, I could pass myself off as something unhinged for Halloween, but I think I’m better off hitting the bath. I’m sure, beneath the used paint tins, cardboard boxes and my treasured Brazilian saucepans, my new tub looks something like this guy.
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Just think though – it’s your own home and you can bang a nail in where ever you like!!
Ahh, moving, it’s fun, isn’t it? By now I cannot touch anything with my hands without involuntarily ripping it – far beyond hand cream, I am. But then, at the end of the tunnel there will be a beautiful bath… so YAY! xoxo
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