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!
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6 Comments
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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!