Week of Weeks

The worst appears to be over. Physically speaking that is.

The movers arrived this morning and, after a quick brew, got stuck straight into it. It's three o'clock now and they reckon they'll work until seven this evening and come back and load the container at nine tomorrow morning. We should be done by lunch-time.

It's been a roller coaster of a week for me personally speaking. The wife has been her usual rock-solid, unflappable, industrious self and the kids are getting more excited by the day - but me, my mood has been changing like the weather and, as any resident of this island would surely concur, the weather has been unbelievable in its variety of late.

However, as the end of this week nears and, finally, there appears to be a light at the end of the tunnel, I'm beginning to feel more like I would have expected to feel.

The car has been sold today and there's a chap called Steve winging his way north from Plymouth as I type to collect it. Good timing, we leave on Sunday.

So, tomorrow lunch-time, the house should be empty, the movers should be gone, as should the car and we should be considerably richer than we are today. Lovely jubbly.

All that remains then are a few points of admin, some last-minute cleaning/painting and, to round the week off, our leaving bash on Saturday night.

Should be a good night. Some of our oldest friends are coming from various parts of the UK and, of course, all the local friends and family. I'm looking forward to it, but in a strange way.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.