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Changes.

Doors of perceptiom...
The process of household decluttering continues unabated.  A chap named Ian is going to cart a stack of won't-read-again paperbacks to Oxfam.  I've tried selling some of the books on eBay and earned 99p before the site's selling charges were deducted.  Oddly enough I can't be bothered trying to find big-enough envelopes for the rest.

I have been painting door frames, window sills and skirting boards all round the house.  By the end of this week, three estate agents will have traipsed through our rooms and delivered their verdicts.  Yes, we're putting this house on the market.  Yes, we really are moving this time - not like two years ago, when we considered moving to New Brighton and then changed our minds.  This time, we're resolute.  We have become Rightmove regulars.

We have been here for fourteen years, which is the longest I've ever lived in one place.  I'll miss my frog pond but I plan to build another.  I'll miss my garden but I'm already looking forward to creating another.  I wish I could take all my plants with me but having attempted to do this once in the past I know it's more trouble than it's worth.  Many plants didn't survive digging-up and re-potting, and by the time life had settled down again to the point where there was time to start planning the new garden many of the survivors had keeled over anyway.   Besides, most my favourite plants are too big to dig up now.  We'd need a fleet of vans to transport them.  So it's being utilised as a major selling point, (which is how it was described by estate agent who's been here already).

I won't miss West Kirby as it will only be down the road.  The views from our windows are rather nice, though, and those I will miss - but there'll be other views, which is perfectly ok.
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