Dreaming, dreaming of the big old storybook house we’ve found in the hills.

230 years old, with open fires, creaky floors & the warm, comforting heat of a big old AGA. If we lived here, we’d never need to move again. If we lived here, it would be happily ever after.

Between us & the dream though lies some sort of bridge-based metaphor for the overly complicated & archaic English house buying system, with estate-agent-trolls shaking their fists in anger underneath. I’m scared to dream too much, but then I can’t sleep at night for the excitement anyway!

6 Comments

  • Sara

  • March 23, 2014

Thanks – it did! She was lovely, even though Orla insisted on raiding her cupboards & stealing her stuff! x

  • Sara

  • March 23, 2014

Thank you thank you thank you! x

  • Karen

  • March 23, 2014

Good luck! Hope it went well x

  • Isabelle

  • March 21, 2014

got everything crossed for you! x

  • Sara

  • March 20, 2014

😀 xx

  • Rebecca

  • March 20, 2014

Good luck!

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