At moments in the last months I have had the occasional moment of self-doubt, particularly whilst I moved 4 children, the house, the cat and 7 fish 100miles away from all known civilisation and Oppressed Husband dealt with a massive stabbing outbreak. Do these people have no consideration – of all the times for there to be 9 ,multiple stabbings in 3 days this was not a good one.

So we arrived with almost everyone intact – now down to 5 fish (perhaps not such a good idea to let Ben hold them on the journey). It turned out that he had chosen 2 for the special privilege of being carried in his pockets – which I only discovered at bath time.

Despite best efforts of organisation, preparation and eventually shouting and threats we were then further cut off from the outside world by the failure of BT to manage its part of the bargain (I pay them, they make phone line or so they would have you believe, the lying toads). This meant that Bath was treated to the daily vision of me with kids in tow, mobile clamped to ear, furiously waving laptop in hope of WiFi signal in cafes whilst OH dictated unspeakable gore at me and I endeavoured to send this electronically to its destination – obviously between shouts of “No, Stop it, How many times have I told you, Darling don’t lick that, No Ben not here,” You get the picture.

So now the dust has settled. The boxes are unpacked and we are revelling in our new-found ability to lose each other in the house and not be able to hear the children fighting. The Telly still not connected so we have retreated to life before Normality and do things like make jelly and play with the rabbit (new and male and unfortunately called Fluffy) instead of flopping in front of the television like sensible people.

Life is now immeasurably better since I have located posh country club and against every fibre of oppressed husband’s better self even he is loving the pool, the lawns, the tea on the terrace and the wonderfully knackered children at the end of the day.