What a difference a day makes. On Thursday evening everything was doom and gloom. We had just returned from the new house and Claire asked me to open a bottle of something nasty. Thursday's skeleton in the closet was a leaking pipe that the owner had not mentioned. He had helpfully set up a container to catch the drips and this was entirely full. Claire had a sleepless night. Friday was far, far better. We had a series of workmen round, all of whom said "This is not a disaster" and we are both moving towards feeling excited.
The wine was not nearly as nasty as anticipated - an odd flavour that tastes neither of elderflower or gooseberry.