no chickens, no counting, no hatching

but a small coincidence that got me thinking a little too vividly in the middle of the night. T and I were rounding the corner of my street yesterday, on cat-feeding duty elsewhere, and reminiscing about our stay in Melbourne last year. A family was out in the back lane with bats and balls, and I stopped to say hello - obviously the new bunch of very loud little kids who have been my alarm call some mornings.

We had a pleasant neighbourly chat, and learned that the family had moved back to the UK a fortnight ago from Melbourne. They were living in a rented place, their eldest child about to attend the local school, and they were desperate (their word) to buy a house in this area. A planned move into the adjoining street had just fallen through.

Well, of course, I mentioned that I had a house I was planning to sell, and they expressed a desire to come and see it......

That little attic, the last remaining Room of Shame, and in theory the fourth bedroom, is getting a quick tidy up this afternoon, and some serious freecycling is going to take place too. T has been taken away by family for a few hours, but intends to come home and help. Just what a holiday at the other side of the world is for.

Superstitiously, I'm not really given to setting my hopes too high, and practically, I'm aware that this house has only one bathroom, so I'm focusing on the 'having a look' part of that conversation before any fantasising about an over-hasty sale and a homelessness crisis, cats and plastic bags in shopping trolley, bandana-wearing dog on a string, and people pursing their lips and saying "See? I told you it would be disastrous."

If nothing else comes of it, at least I'll have had that kick in the pants that gets a room sorted out, and will know some nice new neighbours and their lively children. The dog won't need to wear a spotted kerchief, and the cats can continue to patrol and terrorise the neighbourhood. For now.