After a brief, marriage-straining discussion caused by a difference of opinion over the numbers we have allocated to the bedrooms in the new house - I argue that my 1,2,3,4,5 anti-clockwise system is easier to follow than Liz's 1,5,3,4,2 - we are up and labelling.
Freezer defrosted. VCR doing its final job on this morning's Championship highlights, washing machine on its final spin, dishwasher saying go ahead punk, make my day, unplug me and the floor gets it with old water. All beds bar one dismantled.
Computer is next so goodbye until, ooh Wednesday I reckon unless, no she wouldn't let me.
Bob's song about the landlords of local hostelries being distraught seems vaguely prophetic now as Paul at the Somerville provided free chocolate cake for our final, very happy evening there. Wrote a letter to the Good Pub Guide nominating him as unspoiled pub of the year. We'll see.
Oh yes, and we sold the house yesterday. Good timing or what?