Get ready for a rush of activity!

I took 2 photographs of the mantlepiece, but this one looks less messy. I was too ashamed to put the other one up. I feel the need for a bit of an excuse too. I can explain! I can explain! It's all Hamish's fault! I have to put everything up here out of his way. All my high shelves etc, are packed with 'Leave-It-Hamish! Essentials'. Well that's the excuse I am sticking with. Tough if you know me and don't believe me.

• 6 photographs, some framed, some still waiting to be framed by lazy person - tick!;
• 1 handmade pottery bowl filled with crap (misc.) - tick!;
• 1 little ceramic artwork that I hold very dear to my heart and cherish cause it was quite expensive and so far has avoided mishap, eh, filled with crap (misc.) - tick!;
• 2 name trains in various pieces scattered throughout crap (misc.) - tick!;
• Assorted necklaces - mine, Orla's, Hamish's(!) - tick!;
• Innumerable letters that lazy procrastinator probably needs to do something about - tick!;
• Tub of Playdoh, small plastic teacup, Peppa Pig barbeque trio objet d'art - tick!;
• Pile of Dora, Diego, Peppa, and dreaded Barney dvd's - tick!
• 1 hurricane lamp, never used and bought to look pretty, but inevitably stuffed full of crap (misc.) by aforementioned lazy person - tick!;
• Coins and notes and two un-banked cheques artfully scattered or stuffed throughout above items - tick!;
• 2 tv remotes - tick!;
• Unloved Easter chick - tick!;
• Nappy rash cream - tick!;
• Dust (x lots) - tick!

And that was an inventory of the living room mantlepiece.

I emailed a friend who moved with RR to ask about the move and what happened and got back a lovely email that nearly made me crap myself. Let me quote you the second line: "So from what I remember you have to do an inventory of everything in the house" ...oh, and my favourite bit..."even down to the names of all your cd's, dvd's etc,". YOU WHAT??????????? "...and then you have to put a price to everything, for insurance purposes I think.". Think of the mantlepiece and multiply that by a house. Holy smoke, I practically started swiping great loads of (Stevie's) stuff into bin bags for the dump there and then! This sounds like about a million times the work of just packing it myself. Great. What happened to my dream of an elite team of RR packers coming to the door, I shout to the kids "Time to stop playing now" and then hand them the keys as I sashay out on my way to the airport casually telling them to pack the cleaning products and hoover after they've given the house a good scrub before they go.

Apparently this is the dream. I still get my knickers packed, but only if I've listed them and put a price to them first.