The Last Supper

Sausage, mash, gravy and peas (and a fine Chateau D'Issan to swill it down). I'm not saying it's authentic, but it's our last supper in this house. The new owners move in on Monday, but our removal van comes tomorrow to take away Mr B and the vast majority of our chattels. Packing today has been slightly held up by neither of the box deliveries arriving on time. One lot should have been here yesterday, but arrived today at 1.30pm, closely followed by the second lot which should have been here at 9 this morning.

So, it's been a busy afternoon, but much has been packed. Still more to go...

My 'big' computer will be all packed up tomorrow, but I'll try and persuade the laptop to work for long enough to blip, when it will hopefully be just me, a sleeping bag, the laptop and a box full of cleaning supplies. In England when you move house you can just take what you want, and leave the junk and dirt behind for the new folk. Here in Scotland you clean, repair and leave everything perfect. It's the way things should be, of course, but I doubt I'll agree with that sentiment by the end of tomorrow.

Still, we have lots of time. And my lovely lovely parents have offered to bring the kids back just whenever we're ready. It's very odd being in the house without them though. Quiet, too quiet.

Anyway, happy Bastille Day, and a very very happy birthday to an old friend who will stop by and read this some time. (And I can call you 'old' now!)

Reluctant as I am to link back to such a rubbish shot, here is my blip from Monday. I was slightly confused about where it was, but blip-central confirmed that I hadn't clicked on 'publish', so they did it for me. And there was me thinking it had been moderated away for being too dull to look at.