Moving out

So, we signed our renovation contract. The fucker’s finally getting done. Hell yeah!

By the end of November, I’ll have a renovated house AND a baby. Double hell yeah!

Now we need to move out and we’ve been given exactly two weeks to do so. That’s pretty tight. Luckily, we have somewhere to go (several places to go, as it turns out), but still. Tight.

Now, which cook books do I take with us and which do I put in a lonely, lonely box?

Well, three lonely boxes; there’s a second, less-used row of books and magazines behind the one that’s visible. They’ll all get a nicer home in the new kitchen (or maybe the pantry, haven’t decided). Not as nice as Nigella Lawson’s cook book library, though:

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