Changing Rooms.

Bob and I have moved rooms.

For some reason it suits us much better to let our visitors sleep in the front bedroom, a bedroom we normally use, and coincidentally they then use our front big bathroom too. When Bob and I get up at the crack of dawn most of our visitors are still counting celestial sheep and for us it is much easier to make our early morning coffee, watch the early morning news and greet the morning with our set routine, knowing we won't wake up anyone.

The other bedroom at the end of our house is too near the kitchen so that invariably the coffee machine gets heard. Easier to switch bed and bathroom for a while. Truth be told, the two of us see it as a holiday of sorts because as they say, a change is as good as a holiday.

This afternoon the two of us have packed enough clothes to last for a few days without having to go to our wardrobe. One would think it is a quick affair, but au contraire...!

The bathroom switch is a piece of cake. When we first moved in we bought a cheap metal stand with handles and that ended up the best buy yet. All I have to do is take the handles and ferry all our bathroom odds and ends in one go to the other bathroom.

When Bob came in from gardening a bit later, he mumbled something about me having conveniently forgotten to move all his stuff and when I asked what it was, he pointed to the razor and a bar of special soap. Gosh, men are so lucky that they don't need all those concealing utensils we slightly older women couldn't live without. Imagine the sheer bliss of having only a bar of soap and a pot of cream to use and lug about?

Biggi