Only one week to go

This week has been a week of final things.

After 6 years I’ve finally tidied up the attic, which was the Lair of Newt until last summer.

Our foster cat Tabitha went to her new home, and settled in straight away having a quick nose around the her new house like she owned the place before curling up under a radiator.

We had our final recycle bin collection last week, and we missed it.

I had my final bottles of real ale from the shop round the corner.

I got up bright and sparky this morning, and am now in the process of packing up the kitchen. Then its on to misclanous debris around the house, before packing the essentials (clothes, food and cats) next weekend.

Talking of which this time next week I’ll be recovering from a healthy hangover, and doing the last of the packing in a nice calm and relaxed manner. NOT

Instead I’ll be sick to the point of voming, running around like a headless chicken squeezing the last of the packing into overburdened cardboard boxes. What jolly good fun.

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