Why is it whenever I go to the trouble of reinstalling wordpress on a new site, they bring out a new version? I guess now is a better time to upgrade though, considering I don’t have any fancy plugins installed as yet and none of my files are changed (oh they will be). Whenever I find a nifty plugin, widget, thingamajig and so on, I make a mental note to keep track of which files I’ve edited. Sometimes it’s not even a case of following instructions. I’ll just rifle through the WP files trying to find the bit I want to change and upon finding said change, change it, without making a note of what I changed or where of course. Now I have half a dozen edited core files and what’s this? Oh a NEW version? Grand!

House moving is scheduled for Tuesday. James and I are moving up north to be closer to the family. I’ll be glad to see the back of this place, the neighbourhood is way past it’s use by date. I have random things packed, in fact two rooms have been sealed into small boxes. I have since aquired what seems like a cold but is in fact just a result of an inch of dust being thrown into the air, swirled around and sucked up my nose. Sneezing, eyes watering, feeling like I’ve been pepper sprayed. It’s not pretty.

I will however soldier on. We’ve been living in this townhouse for almost a year and I really can’t wait to get out of this place and Tuesday seems like a lifetime away.

Shadowmuse has moved home over the past week and has arrived safe and sound. At the moment I’m using a generic template as I wanted to get something up other than just a working on it message. It won’t stay looking like this it’s just, this way I can still keep posting while working on getting the rest of the new design up.

I’m also in the middle of moving house myself and am sitting in the midst of a mountain of cardboard boxes. Earlier on in the evening James and I went on a very determined hunt for boxes. I don’t want to pay a fortune for professional mover boxes, I really just straight out refuse to pay for a box. I’ll pay for what’s in it, but the box?

Stealing through the night, our eyes peeled for any sign of box of any description. It was a delicate procedure. I’m positive that a number of security guards took down our plate number and one old chap looked positively delighted by the fact that he might get some action. Poor old guy. He had only just stood up from his fold up chair and lowered his specs when we sped off, having found nothing but a few industrial metal bins, locked up tight.

We finally found our stash. A dimly lit alley way at the back of a factory in the middle of town, folded boxes piled high, pouring out onto the driveway. We’d found a goldmine of boxes so we loaded up the car and retired for the night, heading home to begin what could only be one of the most unpleasent experiences one has to endure in their life.

Moving house.

We have three boxes packed, it feels like seventy and still so much more to do.