ONE YEAR ON...

I moved into this house a year ago, give or take a week of hazy memory.

Today there is one carton of semi-skimmed milk (3/4 full) one carton of soy light (1/4 full) one carton of soy regular (unopened) and a suspect half carton of regular in the fridge. How did it come to be this way?

To understand this you must first aim to understand the house and it's odd content.
Nestled in a quiet London street is a large abode, each brick threatening to succumb to gravity at any moment. A steal as far as rent, and therefore hospitable. Never mind the stairs creak as if they are rigged for a haunted house, never mind at least one appliance is always malfunctioning, never mind there are no light fittings only lamps, anything that is cheap in this city counts as livable.

Within it live a half a dozen, and I promise if three is a crowd then six is a multitude. Each character struggling to survive, to be heard in one of the biggest cities on earth, and pushing just to chose the channel on the television for just one night a week.

The line up of this mismatched place will be revealed day by day until you can get all six... and then know how lucky it is that we all haven't imposed restraining orders on each other yet...

So for today I best start with the author, which is me, and what I am. Just hit 30 and yes possibly a little too old for the house share thing, but I can't quite consider myself grown up enough for my own four walls and garden just yet. I left my much warmer country more than six years ago on a whim, moved all about Europe, and still haven't managed to swallow moving back. Perhaps it's the cost of a ticket? Unfortunately I am the anal cleaner in this ensemble... well it's unfortunate for me only... I am the one that likes plants and nice food and quickly gained the reputation as the peacekeeping entity. The real question is, how much longer do I want to keep the peace for?