I know I've been missing in action for a while and my apologies for that. I suppose it took me longer than expected to get properly settled into the new house. But now that we're all feeling more and more at home, I must say I've been sleeping better than I have in years. It might be the open fire. And before you ask, the novelty hasn't worn off yet, I even don't mind taking out the ashes. Having grown up in a house with a huge fire on nearly every winter's night I never realised how much I had missed it.
We've had a fire on every single night since we moved in. And after turning the house into a smoke hut the first few times, I've gotten the hang of it and can actually not only light a fire and keep it lit, but can also do so without filling the house with smoke. I call that a result.
I've gotten into cooking a lot more, too. The new kitchen is perfectly proportioned for efficient cooking. Everything is at your fingertips, yet it's not cramped and there's plenty of storage and worktops. I am fully aware that I am going on about this a bit, but screw you, I'm excited to have a new house! All this cooking has come at a price, though; in the last two days I've managed to burn myself quite badly on the arm and I have split the tip of my thumb with a knife while chopping an onion for some kick-ass spaghetti bolognaise.
Right now I'm on the couch, in front of the fire with a glass of wine and visibly pregnant with a food baby. There's a gale force wind blowing outside and it's raining horizontally. Can you really blame me for not wanting to move?