It's three years since we moved to our house.
Actually, it's three years and one day. I completely forgot about the anniversary being yesterday. But the move took several days... from getting the keys (and being able to paint) to actually sleeping there was a four day process. Completion - and the handing over of a very large cheque - took place in the middle.
It seems like a very long time ago now. At the same time, I'm not entirely sure where the past three years have gone. Time has a way of speeding up and slowing down that is really best described by Terry Pratchett's idea of 'history monks' who forever have to untangle chronological problems, by borrowing time from here and adding it into there...
Of course, it's also an indication that we're made for Eternity, rather than our time-centric life on Earth counted by hours and days and years.
We are still extremely thankful for this house, which - in retrospect - we can see that we bought at exactly the right time from the financial perspective. I still don't regret not having a garden. And the guest flat - our ground floor apartment - is being very well-used. In 2007 it was occupied for about a third of the time. Last year it was nearer half of the time. This year, it's been occupied two-thirds of the time. We're starting to get requests that we have to turn down, because it's already booked up.