Welcome to Wendy’s House Party!
Come in, come in and pull up a cardboard box. I’m a bit short on chairs. I don’t usually get many visitors. Plenty of spiders and spambots.
But humans – not so much!
Those of you who have already popped around for a brew and a blether, might notice there’s something different about Chez Wendy. That’s because I’ve just moved into my snazzy new writer’s pad.
Now, I’m not saying my old website didn’t have its own special charm, (hubby kindly built it from scratch, so it’s probably best I quit while I’m behind) but I know he’d be the first to say that a spring clean was waaaaaay overdue. Something he frequently likes to point out about our real life residence. To which I frequently tell him where he can shove the feather duster.
Moving swiftly on.
I would give you a virtual tour, but I’m afraid there’s not much to see as yet, except for this snug corner – my blog. 🙂
I realise the rest of the space is looking a bit on the bare side, and I’ve yet to put up the Ikea shelves I bought for my up-and-coming books. But it’s often the case when you move into a bigger place that your tatty, mismatched pieces of furniture look ridiculously out of place. Unless, of course, the house you moved from was the size of a mansion. To be honest, compared to my last abode, this place feels like a palace. Minus the staff, more’s the pity.
Though they do say moving house is one of life’s major stresses, next to divorce and death. Once you finally get over the shock of the exorbitant solicitors fees and the exhaustion of the move itself, there are still one hundred and one jobs to tick off your to do list. Before you know it, six months have zipped by, leaving you with a credit card bill the size of a small planet, a frown line you could park a bike in, and a stack of boxes you’ve never quite managed to get around to unpacking.
A virtual move might not be so tough on the old back or as much strain on the purse strings, but in some ways it can be just as a stressful. Especially if, like me, you’re technically challenged. Whoever said setting up a self-hosted WordPress site was a piece of cake better not say it in my earshot, or they might find themselves wearing it.
No doubt it will take me another six months to figure out how to work all the sleek technical gismos I’ve been handed along with the keys. But for now, I’m more excited by the prospect of sprinkling some Wendy magic over the rest of my unfurnished rooms.
There’s nothing quite like a blank canvas to get the old brain whirring with creative possibilities. Especially when those freshly painted white walls are all super smooth, and there’s not a surface crack or wonky floor board in sight. Aah! Though knowing what a headache it is to customise pages on WordPress, I’m sure I’ll discover plenty of other annoying snagging problems when the dust finally settles and the rose-tinted glasses have slipped down the back of the sofa.
But I’m guessing you didn’t come all this way to listen to me droning on about paint swatches and scatter cushions. I promised you a party and a party you shall have!
So go help yourself to nibbles, turn up the tunes and Flashdance like it was 1983. There’s oodles of space.
Okay, what’s with the blank stares? Please tell me someone here was born before 1990?
Cue awkward silence.😳
Groan! I feel so old. But not so old that I’m a complete luddite. By the power of YouTube, let me take you back to the days of big perms, lycra and lipgloss to find your inner 18-year-old dancing welder. And if you’re very lucky, I might even dig out my purple leg warmers and Kids from Fame t-shirt from my can’t let go of the 80s box.
WHAT A FEEEEELING!
Sorry, think this glass of bubbly has gone straight to my head. Either that or it’s the paint fumes. Whatever the reason for my lightheaded euphoria, it’s probably a good moment to make my toast before I start making an even bigger arse of myself. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it short and sweet. Public speaking terrifies me as much as my fish phobia. Shudder!
Firstly, I’d like to say a huge thank you for coming to my wee shindig. If I’d known it wasn’t going to be just me and my yucca plant, Rodrigo, I’d have bought in way more Pringles. Seriously though, I’m really touched that you’re all here to celebrate this special moment with me. So without further ado, please raise your glasses to my new writerly abode. May its well of imagination never run dry and the internet connection work faster than Pixie Dust.
Could I ask one last teeny favour before you stumble off into the night in search of the nearest chippie to soak up the champers. Please take a moment to sign the visitors book. I seem to have lost the last one in transit.
And please don’t be a stranger. My door is always open. Unless you’re trying to sell me something, save my soul or sign me up for the zombie apocalypse. Then I’ve emigrated to deepest, darkest Peru. 😉