This blog is still alive.

No, I haven't forgotten about you guys; I'm just rather much in post moving stress. My new flat is great, but I'm still sitting between packed boxes, everything is chaos and I can't find anything. I'm constantly searching for something. The iguana still hasn't his home complete either. I'm working on it, both: the vivarium and my flat. The big sheets didn't fit through the staircase, so we had to leave them downstairs for the night and saw a bit off to make them fit. Now my friend knows how to use power tools. Under my careful instructions and a minor incident with the blade (nobody has been injured), everything went almost smoothly.

I'm battered and bruised, though, but that's okay, they say if you don't you haven't really moved. Right now, I'm waiting for a handyman to come and fix the water pressure and being made homeless for a few hours, I'll sort of the handover of the keys to the old flat. When I'm back I'll hopefully be able to finish the vivarium and will go to bed early, after a nice hot bath in cocoa butter (or similar).

Just you wait, I feel a short story coming out of this disastrous move; I say disastrous because things went a bit pear-shaped. But the reward is a wonderful flat with the nicest landlord one could wish for and in addition to that: all neighbours are rather wonderful, too.

Don't worry, I'll be back.

Stella Schwarzenegger. (Sorry it was stronger than me.)