I have fallen for a house, no I know it's not as bad as cheating on my hubby or hiding chocolate biscuits. I haven't lied, stolen or killed anyone but I feel so terrible and wrong. Yes, I love a house and we're going to see it again tomorrow night.
I've been playing about with the estate agents brochure and changing things, all your darn blogs have me full of ideas for the quite large back garden and I think I may go mad. If I explode (as I think I may - we haven't sold our house yet and the Hubby has loads more houses he wants to see) and if I do this is my last will and testament (or at the very least, what I can think of now to put in one).
I, Carrie, of Grow Our Own, being of sound mind (hahahaa, maniacal laugh) here by leave everything to my Husband and dog (Maggie aka 'the Magster'). My body is to be cremated and put in the compost or round the roses I don't know what's best for human remains.
My lottie and all within in should stay in the name of my Husband and should be a place of happiness and fun for all. My blog shall end with a heartfelt post by my nearest and dearest with a slide show and rousing music. Jaffa Cakes must be eaten all day everyday for a month after my demise and Shiraz and/or Merlot drunk by the bucket load.
Here endth the last will and testament of Carrie.
Yes, I may explode; moving house is a scary, wonderfully exciting experience, I just don't know if I'm cut out for it. I've picked the one I want and now I am going to drink my 2nd glass of wine to ease the pain of what could be unrequited love.
N.B. to Andrew ~ please take a photo of said exploded body, could be very artistic. Get Colin to exhibit it under the Vent Collective please.