This post is brought to you from a house almost-packed-up. We’re sneezing a little more frequently than usual (I’m inhaling eucalyptus and peppermint and eating extra garlic to make sure the dust doesn’t trigger any sinus reaction) but in-between the sorting and packing and decluttering we’re still finding time to keep it light hearted.

Until last night. Last night really wasn’t fun.

It began with Poet sneakily drinking a little too much of my fermented ginger beer. I could hear her tummy gurgling all afternoon so when she woke at 10pm complaining of a sore belly I grabbed the bucket and some towels (not yet packed!) and hoped it wasn’t going to be an all night affair. Thankfully she made it to the bathroom each time but still….on four different occasions there was gentle encouragement, fastidious hand washing and back rubbing once back in bed.

Accompanying the soundtrack of vomiting was the yelling and screaming and thumping of our next door neighbours who like to host parties every few weeks. Suburbia really can be charming, can’t it. Last night was definitely loud and they were still going strong at 2am. Mere minutes after I had put Poet back to bed for the fourth time I lay down on my pillow, attempting to focus on my breath and not Highway to Hell, when all of a sudden the window behind the bed was smashed and I jumped up to find big pieces of glass on my bedside table and shards all over my pillow.

Yes, a party goer thought it would be a great idea to hurl a candle holder towards our house and straight through the bedroom window.

Daniel was seething, I was shaken and the neighbours were equally mortified and apologetic. Stupid, stupid boys.

We were just so lucky that no-one was injured (Percy was right next to me in the bed)…It could have been a very different story. I ended up calling the police and making a formal statement (at 4am, in my pyjamas) because if it prevents it happening again, then it was worth it.

Needless to say it was a sleepless night and when Poet bounced into bed with me at 6am declaring “I’m all better except for one little bit of sick left,” I begrudgingly got up and had tea with toast and jam – two servings before 7am.

Daniel and I are so relieved that we’re moving on. This little house has been beautiful – light-filled and warm and enveloped in salt air (sometimes it’s so strong that it feels like you’ve dunked your head in a steam bath). But it’s also quite exposed, the ruffians that pull up to the park nearby at night are unsettling and, well, the neighbours leave much to be desired.

It’s time to move on. We’re ready and rearing to go.

ps. the new neighbours are retired and keen to share a beer once a week. Suits us!