Honey, have you seen the cat?

Well, the house is now officially a maze of boxes. Horror room 1 (the garage) has been cleared and organised into boxes of "Things I never used" and "Things I use less than that". Spiders the size of minivans have been evicted from their makeshift caves, no doubt to prowl the streets looking for a new lair in which to trap hobbits. I've also found that golf club bags are a great storage device for swords. I must remember to separate the contents again before I step onto the course. Either that or create a new sport of BloodGolf. Holes in one would be infinitely more likely.

I also discovered the delights of freecycle. One ad for a sofa placed and within 72 hours a gollum-type creature with a dodgy heart was trying to load the suite onto a towtruck to deliver it to people he'd never met. Bless the internet. It somehow has the ability to turn the most mundane jobs into epic clusterfucks which characters who seem to be the bastard children of a drunken mistake between Alan Bennett and John Webster. Gollum was kind enough to leave his number in case we needed rescuing in his towtruck or something stored somewhere, or a removal van, or a guide to the treasures of Tenochtitlán, something, anything, just please call me again. You never know. Perhaps I may break down somewhere one night in a storm in the middle of nowhere, after a nuclear holocaust in which the only survivors are me and a broken man with a fetish for vehicles which move things. Maybe then, if I can find a phone amongst the radioactive debris and scare the rats away from it, I will give him a call and ask if I can utilise his expertise. Or I'll just drink the water and wait for sweet, merciful death.

Until such a time, I shall continue packing. Horror room 2 (the kitchen) still needs to be done and I've no doubt a fun filled afternoon of watching my life repeatedly flash before my eyes as I get stuff down from the loft awaits. A trip to the swedish kingdom of flatpack also looms on the horizon to plan and cost a kitchen amonst the Groblaks and the Fandiks. If I can time it with the holocaust, I might even be able to get a parking space.

Tonight, we dine in IKEA.