In which I moan about moving house and secretly wish for Lego


Moving house is much like childbirth. 
(I knowingly proclaim never having given birth to a child or indeed a moose) But I have quite the imagination, to the extent I can no longer watch anything even vaguely frightening or involving Sarah Michelle Geller. So much like I HOPE with childbirth, once you have moved house you completely forget the sheer horror of packing and the sorting and the calling of the utility companies. And then once you have excitedly signed the lease for a new fancy pad, the memories start flooding back in. 

I only packed up the dvd's today ( 6 boxes, please don't judge us) and then I had to go and have a nap with the cats as I was so devastated by how hideous the process is. Unfortunately I napped right through dinner cooking time, so then my boy had to take me out to dinner which involved naan (my favorite kind of dinner) and then I had to be bought ice cream as I had eaten too much dinner (perverted logic I know) 

Its all been quite a rude awakening from the delightful mandarin scented cocoon of holiday world I was in up until  four days ago. Work and packing? Eeps, sounds far too much like real life for my liking. 

So instead of focusing on the reality of the situation ( you thought I had some DVD's, you should see the sheer volume of books) I am going to pretend I'm moving into a house made of Lego, because I'd quite like that.
(I do quite like our new flat but not quite as much as I like Lego)
I also heard a rumour that there is a huge toy sale on somewhere in the capitalist ether and perhaps instead of using my money on, oh, useful things like bills and moving costs, I best just buy some Lego.

If you hadn't noticed this post is quite nonsense but lookHouses made of Lego. Much more interesting that thinking about packing
(That last house, not Lego, but I would live there if necessary, although I might have to take up cooking children in the oven)