Excuse the mess...

For some reason the temperamental fuzz box that I laughingly call a brain decided to kick start my day at 5am this morning. My eyelids persevered with the notion of sleeping for a further couple of hours. But it was nothing but a sham.

Despite promises to the contrary, Riot was the last of the household to arise. But she was out the door double quick and I was soon left alone to contemplate the carnage that was our L.Z.

There was a bed frame. But my initial attempts to make sense of its construction method floundered on the shores of missing parts. So instead I opted to take care of some work related business, before dealing with the inevitable 'OMFG, I've left something important behind" scenario. 

Too tight for a bus if it wasn't totally necessary, I made the 40-minute yomp back down to New Cross, via Peckham, to collect the aforementioned 'important' (very important. Only bloody left my portfolio under the bed. Idiot). On the return leg, I received word from Riot that the missing pieces were stored beneath the 'Darkroom/Laboratory' signage. The fact we have such points of geography in our new home makes me smile.

In possession of all the necessary slats, I made a second attempt at bed building. This time to a more successful conclusion. Handy Andy, I'm not. But I'm fairly confident it'll stand.  Even with a few bits missing.

Given the some of the Dante-esque visions of hell we saw on our quest for a port to call home... I feel like old one tusk has truly shone his light upon us. It gives me hope for what's yet to come. An uncharacteristic appraisal of the situation if ever there was one.