The last boxes

are either unpacked, or safely hidden away until the next move, and yesterday we invited the parishes to tea...
We're the first people to live in the new vicarage, and the demolition of its predecessor caused considerable sadness particularly in the parish in the valley, so it matters that everyone really knows and believes that they are welcome here, whenever they need or want to come. Yesterday they came in droves, all afternoon and I was unutterably thankful for the wonderful ladies who had correctly predicted that we maybe couldn't manage without help, and kept all comers supplied with tea.
The Dufflepud did sterling work on guided tours and it was, it has to be said, rather lovely to have the house tidy enough not to dread certain doors being opened. Below lies the proof...it won't ever look this good again (and please note that my desk remains its usual bombed out self, even amid the prevailing order!)

The afternoon was actually great fun, albeit exhausting - which led to a stupid ending to the day.Too shattered to drive, I came home from returning the church crockery to the hall via a close encounter with the vicarage gate-post. Dents and scratches are the consequence.Drat!


Two views of the sitting room (neither of which really shows you how good the curtains look - but believe me, they are worth every penny)










Here's the kitchen...
Ironic that when we actually lived in a farmhouse, we had nothing like this kind of large warm living space - but now, in a brand new vicarage, we have a rather wonderful "farmhouse kitchen" where animals, books and ironing piles co-exist happily with assorted Flemings - and I can shut the door and protect the parish from the reality of our mess and muddle. Thanks be to God!