I moved in to my new house on Thursday. The last four days have been exhausting but I finally have everything moved in.
My brother’s-in-law are going to build me a fence. It was started yesterday by the eldest, but weather and unexpected garage emptying have put the kibosh on finishing the job today. I’m really exhausted, and still have boxes to unpack. I’ve gone out to visit friends this afternoon, for a change of scene, but I’ll have to go home soon for tea and to walk the dogs. I might unpack another couple of boxes. I need another set of book shelves. The three units I have from mum’s old house are full. My box room is in the process of being turned in to a library/study but until I get a desk and chair for it I’m using the kitchen table; the dogs keep trying to ‘help’.
It’s weird being in a terrace house after living in a detached house for 31 years. I can hear the neighbours and I’m slightly paranoid that the dogs will disturb them. Gyfa keeps crying-howling at night; she’s not settled in too well but I think she’ll get used to it eventually. I’ve spent this morning trying to contact people to let them know I’ve moved house, sort out my council tax and other stuff. It’s nice to just sit and browse the internet for a while.
The plan for this week is to get a couple of books read and reviewed, and work on one of my writing projects. I’d really like to get the second draft of my novel before NaNoWriMo 2014 starts but I also want to get the short story collections and my book about prominent Anglo-Saxon women finished too. I’m going to work on planning out the new novel in October, to be ready for the beginning of November. It’s been a frustrating few days because I’ve wanted to write but haven’t been able to with moving house. Too much to do, too little time.