An unexpected house move and the sharing of a flat with the unexpected boy has given me the nesting bug. Not a nasty running-to-the-loo kind of bug, but in fact an (almost as nasty) need to spend, decorate, cook, clean (!) and even bake.
Yes, I have surprised myself, but have decided to embrace and enjoy. Surely I'll get over it quick enough, so must strike while the iron is hot. Still not ironing mind, ye gods that really would be the end.