I want my teddy.

I've been here for about 1 1/2 months now and I'm still not in my new home yet as the vendor appears to be doing up the house, including cleaning all the carpets which, while a sweet gesture, is ultimately pointless as I aim to pull them all up and take them all to the skip.  He has, however, made the garden look beautiful and I can't wait to move in.  This isn't going to happen for a bit though, as my solicitor has only just received the other party's papers. 

Richard has been extremely patient putting up with me here but admittedly, I really didn't realise how much I'd get to miss my own possessions.  I am living out of a suitcase and every now and then pay a visit to the storage place to get another much needed belonging, but it really is amazing how much you get to miss your personal belongings, however material they may be.  Basically, all that is here that is mine are important documents, medication and clothes.

I want to look at my pictures, sleep in my bed, use my towels, listen to my CDs, use my dressing gown - I want my teddy, my comfort zone.  Much as I am very grateful to Richard, I feel homesick for my usual surroundings, even if I have forgotten my spice rack, toaster, microwave, mirror, lamps, soap dish, foot stools and much more.

In the meantime, I have paint to think about, wooden floors to choose, curtains to look at, find roofers, buy furniture and so much more 'fun'.

Oh, and a thick anorak and umbrella.

And a shed.

Yes, a shed.