Le Move

I went out earlier to get moving boxes from a storage facility - they were a) closest and b) cheapest, so no contest. Ten medium-sized boxes, that should be more than sufficient.
While there, the very pleasant man behind the counter asked me where I was from, and when I said Germany, began to tell me I could be proud to be German. I was slightly flummoxed, but then he began listing authors, and composers, and painters, and I realized that he feels about Germany the way I feel about the UK. We chatted amicably about Bach and Teleman and Duerer for about fifteen minutes, a pleasant surprise.

My parents have decided that what I really need for my birthday is a bed, and even though I sent them the specifics (Ikea) and the price both in Pounds and Euro, they have decided that I can always need a financial injection. Which means that I can now comfortably move without worrying about having to eat bread and water for the rest of the month and into the next.

Now I am starting to worry about everything I need to do next week, from calling BT to my bank to council tax etc etc. I've started a list. I'm good with lists.

It is strange. After a year of first times, suddenly here come the last times again.