So you ask your house to heal your heart and hells bells doesn't it just go and do the very thing!
Let's think of this as a clean sweep, kind of like the seasonal scrub only without the hassle of wondering where you can hide his yukky smelly trainers and whether he will come in and abandon a used teabag on your kitchen counter until it leaves permanent proof of just how many builders brews the man has on the hour, every hour...
Oh but I'm having fun! Did you ever think you would hear me say that again? I'm in my element, making things scrumptious, ludicrously silly, girly, and wonderful.
As you will see above I have started to repair the damage a decaying relationship had inflicted on the yard and titchy little laundry room and making things lovely again is making me smile and more than that making me feel like I'm in control of my whole destiny, and indeed the ironing board, the scrumptiously pretty hydrangeas and what I'm having for elevenses.
Next it's on to the bedroom. Our bedroom. My bedroom.
I'm taking the world and making it my own. And though I miss him like hell there is a big big part of me enjoying myself too much to contemplate wanting him back.
Oh and the joy of having a whole other wardrobe all to myself...