No Place Like Home

We have been given back the keys to our flat and we are moving stuff over.

Well, Rich is moving stuff over, he's kind of in a frenzy right now. I'm packing up and grumbling. The builders said they'd help me move stuff tomorrow, so I have bagged/packed/boxed up everything I could find and will get the rest over tomorrow with the help of a couple strong Norwegians. I had to take the day off work, they want us out of the temp flat by tomorrow night (our place having been finished today) and we just could not do it in an evening. Amazing how much we managed to get over here even though we've only been here for 21 days. Rich went sort of crazy and brought over everything he ever thought he could not live without, which ended up being a lot. I, on the other hand, have learned how very little I actually need, in general, though apparently 4 different kinds of shampoo, face cream and shower gel are still a necessity for me. A gal needs her variety.

It's none too soon for me to get the hell out of this temporary flat. While it's not a bad place, it's nowhere near as nice as our own place. This was brought fiercely home to me tonight, when, as I was loading the dishwasher, it tumped forwarded and everything rolled out. I mean it just face planted right out of the cabinet onto the floor. A whole damned dishwasher. Talk about a "What the fuck?" moment. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I was rather stunned. I just sort of shoved it back into the cabinet and rolled the trays and such back in, and it seems to be working ok. Maybe someone ought to look at it.

After we are gone, of course. I'll be back home, in my bathtub, with a dishwasher that stays put.