For almost the first time in a fortnight I am home alone.
No one is drilling, sanding, sawing or traipsing about.
The whole house is a mixture of Things That Are Mine and Things That Don’t Feel Like Mine Yet. (With the possible exception of the tile spacers.)
Until then, there are still jars of jam amongst the train tracks in the front room and I’m not entirely sure where the rest of the tea towels are, but we’re making progress.