Erm, still in Peckham. I haven't spent three months sitting on my arse, though, honest. We knew it would take some time to get the house ready to sell, and amusingly we had to give it an extra month for the convenience of our lodger.
He has, to his credit, done a great job on the downstairs front windows, the front door and the shower room. Basically the things that people are going to look at closely, that have to be worked on with a certain amount of skill and technique. Meanwhile I've been slopping my new favourite paint - Sandtex Trade High Cover Smooth, people - over anything that stands still for long enough. Oh, and removing literally dozens of boxes and bags of miscellaneous items (the reasons for keeping which, I cannot possibly fathom) from the loft.
We have also been selling a lot of our possessions, as we would obviously like to be putting as little as possible into storage for the many months to come. eBay has been as fickle a friend as ever, sometimes delivering lovely people (who are prepared to pay substantial amounts of money) to our door to collect broken things they will enjoy tinkering with, and at other times sending us cheeky young scrotes who've got a bargain but still want to push it and moan about some detail, or don't even bother to turn up.
And I've been enjoying living here, as if for the first time. It's true that there are loads of great things to do for free in London, especially if the weather is good and you can set your own agenda - the kids are still going to school, of course. For years I've whinged about how "I don't get value for money living in London. I just go to work, eat, sleep and occasionally get pissed. I could do that cheaper anywhere." I'm now suffering the irony overload of really loving the place while working to get away.
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