Well, enough of that flowery stuff

Now for the real news.

My sister Anne arrived on Monday, and before she could settle herself in for 4 days of extreme soppiness over enjoyment of cats and dogs, there was a viewing of my house requested at short notice. All had been cleaned and tidied for Anne's visit, so we just had to scoot round dusting the dogs and putting the cats' whiskers in curling papers before we could feel truly ready to be Viewed.

A very sweet young graduate and his charming dad-with-cash turned up, liked the house, said they were interested, but had others to view; off they went. We relaxed, allowed the cats' whiskers to go limp and the dogs to acquire a layer of fluff and dust, and carried on with enjoying our visit together. Shopping, walking, meals, conversation, seaside, countryside, plants, cat-and-dog-spoiling; what a full few days we had!

And the next morning, in came an offer on my house. (Not an insulting one like last week's from the couple who had viewed twice with their parents and who had thought that the 5-foot-high bike shed was the original outside loo.)

It was an offer that was a sensible opening gambit, and could, we thought, be slightly improved. Some negotiation later, a better sum was accepted, and today a very pleasant telephone conversation was had with dad-with-cash, ironing out details, assuring me of serious intent, surveys, solicitors, and the possibility of the move taking place quickly....

I seem to have sold my house!!

But that's not all. Next Wednesday I fly down to Bristol, pick up a hire car, drive for a good long way, meet up with my friend Lizzie, and view at least two houses, before flying home the same night. The house on the road where I really want to live is just going on the market, and I may be its first viewer; I would hope to like it enough to be its last. I'll keep you posted.

Meantime, please have some more flowers given to me by Charlotte.

Brussels sprout tulips. Mad, adorable.