Our impromptu decision to move house next door is proving to be the most brilliant move ever.

Our new abode is small, compact, cosy and easy to keep warm – so much so I find myself turning off the heating after about an hour, no matter how low I have it set.

Apart from some sweeping in the kitchen, we haven’t knuckled down yet for any serious housekeeping.

Yet I can already tell that a serious go at it – three carpeted rooms, tiles in the kitchen, short hallway and bathroom – will take Bennie and I about half an hour. Or less.

Bliss!

The place just doesn’t seem to attract dust, unlike our previous place next door.

The very manageable small and front gardens are not going to have us sweating either, again unlike the previous joint.

One of the loveliest things about our new home is the joy of being surrounded by so much unpainted, unvarnished old wood, some trimming aside.

The bathroom/kitchen/laundry side of the house is a later addition also done out in wood au natural, and is pretty cool.

But in the three other rooms, the wood – a plane blond wood, but not pine, I think – adorns the lower half of all the walls and ALL the ceilings, while the glassed doors are  likewise lovely, but of another tree species.

All this seems original and could be, I suspect, up to a century old.

Simply gorgeous!

We’ve yet to re-establish any regular cooking routines – in fact, I seem to be off cooking for the time being.

But we have become familiar with the dear old Parkinson Princess stove.

She’s kinda narrow in terms of the oven.

But the stovetop is ace – there’s a heap of space between the flame output and the bottoms of the pots and pans above, so when we need some REAL heat, it’s there for us.

Having discarded the surround-sound nonsense, we’re back to the simplicity my old but good amp, CD player, two speakers.

Sadly, it’s not sounding the best in the room it’s in, but it’s OK and it seems a small price to pay for the pleasures, warmth and security our new home is providing us.

Meanwhile, our new next door neighbours – the folks who moved into our old joint – have balloons flying from their gateposts and many lights ablaze.

I guess they’re having a house warming.

Should we consider ourselves invited?