It will soon be time to bid farewell to the home with the moss green carpets, the Victorian tiles, the painted chairs, the wild garden glittered with cigarette butts from upstairs, the tiniest letterbox in the world that insists no post will ever get through, the window that never opens, the constant murmur of traffic and the chirping of the little green man, the Italian lady across the street that likes to wave and assumes we're married, the most beautiful view of Bath (bar that frightful office block I used to work in), the ping pong tournaments that have scarred our coffee table, the mice that decided to take up residency last winter, the funny man upstairs who still listens to Linkin Park, the cream tea occasions and the comforting familiarity of musty smells and old books.*
But we will be warm this winter.
Jon recovered this smashed light bulb yesterday. I think it was sad to be leaving too.
* Incidentally, if anyone needs any furniture, do let me know!
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