Getting sorted.

Note to readers (my lovely bloggees): For the avoidance of any doubt - every character in this blog is me!!! No Baggy was harmed in its writing.

Truthfully (because what else can Creative Clara write?), Baggy was not in a great place again this morning. Furry Mama was woken by the Hinge's usual jump on Baggy, purr lots, head-butt Baggy's face, and if none of that works, tap her on the nose or chin with a paw - still no response, then tap again with a few claws unleashed. That always works. Baggy rolled over to save her face and nearly squashed Bracket who was curled up in a little fur ball at the end of the bed. It was still fairly dark. Minty Mutt heard Baggy moving and decided to join Furry Mama on the bed as well (his new routine apparently). Baggy decided to go back to sleep, until Clever Bird noticed the clock - 10.15am.

Reluctantly Baggy got up. It's been a very grey, cold drizzly day in little old Suffolk and Hormonal Hannah did not want to go out in it. No arguments from the rest of the gang. Of course this is against all advice for depression sufferers - you should get out and get some fresh air and exercise. But Baggy really did not want to. So Clever Bird decided that she could get her exercise by getting The Domestic Goddess to carry on with trying to re-claim the house from the "stuff". This wasn't as daft as it sounds, because living in a chaotic mess is one of the things that's bringing Baggy down.

As she was de-cluttering the dining table, Baggy found some unopened post. One of which was a final demand for council tax, "to be paid in full by January 22nd or the Council will commence legal proceedings to ensure recovery" blah, blah, blah. Freda Fretter went into a panic! She was sure that Clever Bird had set up a direct debit. Clearly not. Clever Bird paid the (large) bill over the automated system, then decided that she had better phone and explain herself. She realised that she hadn't even confirmed that they had moved into the house. Twenty minutes later it was all sorted. It then occurred to Clever Bird that she needed to let the other council know that they had moved out. Another twenty minutes and it was sorted. Then she realised she needed to change the insurance policy as well. Another twenty minutes. The ubiquitous cup of tea followed, at the same second as the phone rang. It was Calum, "Have you been yacking to your sister you've been on the phone for over an hour?" Sigh.

The Goddess went back to "sorting". It's taken all day, but the kitchen is now ninety-five percent re-claimed, the dining room one-hundred percent, and the "hobby" room, eighty percent. It is now not possible to get into the spare/cat bedroom as relocation of "stuff" was needed, which will be very interesting if we manage to bring the bed back from the (soon-to-be-a-) holiday cottage at the weekend, which is the plan. Ah well, it's like one of those puzzles, you know the ones? Lots of squares in a square - one empty square hole - shuffle the squares to complete the picture. Clever Bird just needs to remember to leave her "empty square".........