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Wisteria Can Wait
I’ve never really liked Status Quo. Their music annoys me. Yet I can’t seem to help but hum along. In the same way, the status quo with The Funny Little Bungalow is annoying me. But still, we hum along. Of Read more
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Henfield Rocks!
The Four Little Seymours are currently lost around our local village. I left them there on Friday, abandoned near the funeral directors, the church, the library and the park. It was hard to walk away. I kept popping back – Read more
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Brain Dump
Hello! I am updating the ol’ blog after a long absence, for which I apologise. I have a lot of excuses. They are thus: – I had guests. In the actual house! The Funny Little Bungalow was inhabited by real Read more
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Leaving Home…
She’s gone! Little Seymour Number One has had enough of shed life, sleeping next to small children and living in the dark. She’s left home, and gone to live in France. Apparently, I have heard it on the grapevine that Read more
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The Beginning of The End..?
I apologise for my last post which was, quite frankly, rather miserable. I would like to update this week with slightly more enthusiasm. My excuse for the negativity is that Big Seymour, who usually just ploughs on regardless, had finally, Read more
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Cold
We have now lived in The Shed for eleven months exactly. Normally, living in The Shed is rather fun. It’s bearable verging on pleasant, and actually really rather lovely when the sun shines through the south-facing windows. Today, I’m not Read more
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Celotex Hell
Yep. The Celotex has finally done him in. After months of roofing and demolition, hammering and sawing, it is the poking of assorted sizes of foil-backed insulation into the spaces between the noggins that has finally reduced Big Seymour to Read more
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Visiteurs
Never ones to cower in the face of adversity, we have today welcomed a French Exchange student to The Funny Little Bungalow. Poor girl. I did try to explain to the French Teacher about our situation. I described the sleeping Read more
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Feng Shui Problems
Just when you think you know where everything is going, you realise that your husband and yourself speak a different language entirely, and before you know it, the dressing table you’ve dreamed of in your head, with just the right Read more
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New Boots
My house is messy. It’s true. There is a lot in it. It’s not orderly, and nobody else could find anything if I died and left them to it. Last night, Big Seymour likened me to my grandmother. Now, I Read more