And breathe

My possessions are in four different places. The first lot went to be stored in London nearly two and a half years ago. I naively thought I'd see that batch again by the end of that year. At the same time I lent my piano to someone in Oxford and I have missed it ever since. If I'd had any idea how long I'd be waiting for the builders I wouldn't have let it go. The third lot moved with me into my house two and a quarter years ago, some in boxes that I never opened. Most of that lot is with me in my borrowed attic now, still unopened. The fourth lot went into my garden shed five weeks ago.

For most of this time I've been good at remembering what's where and I easily retrieved my camping things on my last trip to London but the last five weeks have addled me and I haven't a clue where anything is unless it's in front of me. Even if it is in front of me, it can very easily dematerialise. I have mislaid the most unlosable of things over the last few weeks.

Thus it was that I walked to the camping shop this morning to replace a mysteriously lost bowl I want for the coming weekend, found they didn't have one then walked back only to discover it in a kitchen cupboard that it had definitely not been in when I left.

At least the camera got a walk.