I have a tentative moving date of 16th July. That would be exactly a month from today for those of you who can’t count. Or four weeks and two days. Or 30 days. I could go on but that would get really boring. The house is looking barer by the day – it doesn’t feel like my house anymore and I’m itching to get going. Plus I am pig-sick of sleeping on the sofa. I am really looking forward to having a nice bedroom again, with wardrobes too! What luxury. All my clothes are either in boxes or hanging on the ironing board in the lounge – no wonder I seem to be wearing the same three outfits in rotation.