Tony Grist (poliphilo) wrote,
Tony Grist

How It All Panned Out

I was putting my trousers on this morning and it dawned on me that there was nothing on my key ring- apart from the Tesco and Sainsbury club cards- that was any longer of any use to me.

We took the removals van back to Ton Hire this morning. They gave us a sizeable refund for returning it a day early.

We almost cleared the house. Sam said we could leave things we didn't want- so we did, but there wasn't much. A couple of Romanians appeared off the street and- with permission- carried off the redundant white goods and a couple of fold down beds we had never used. Mrs Bibi from two doors down came and engaged us in conversation about the quality of our kitchen cabinets while helping herself to odd items- a trivet, some bowls, a child's xylophone.

Matthew's assistant- who is a magpie- and will be a fully feathered eccentric in twenty years time (he's only 19 now)- took possession of some knives he found in the cellar, a tub of creosote and a bottle of coal tar shampoo ("My father uses it and they don't make it any more")

The weather held. The storms we'd been promised seem to have expended themselves on the west coat and the far north. We drove back down the M40 in lovely, bland, autumnal sunshine.

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