The whole moving house thing wound up being being pretty easy, largely because we seem to have some of the best friends in the world.
The Pixie hadn't seen the house at all until the day we picked up the keys, so it comes as some relief that she doesn't hate it and that we we are all settling in quite nicely. So far the only unforeseen horror has been in the cupboard under the stairs, where we found an old wooden box containing a single child's slipper and a rusty saw.
Which is hardly horrifying at all, actually; and far less disturbing than our pet Frenchman's collection of sinister foreign foodstuffs.
Soupe?! What the hell's that?
Those labels could say anything, and there is literally no way of finding out.