Exodus

Playing Bob Marley's Exodus this morning, and it is time for the movement of I Jah Man Kenny. So I booked a self-styled nice man with a big van, to move the bulky bits to Lorraine's, known from now on as the The Old Church Hall in this blog, on Saturday. Calliope beings her new life on Friday when I take her and the other precious things over in the car.

Then fielded calls from the agency. Ordered packing boxes, painted out graffiti on my green fence, collected my hard drive and other bits from the post office, backed up everything on it and tried ineffectually to catch up on the backlog of work.

Then packing and sorting. When I decided the time had come to place my head into a doorframe and slam the door on it repeatedly, I chose instead to go to the gym where I became embroiled in a extra long workout. Emerged rather starving and was resting my bones when Lorraine came around. Probably prompted by seeing Mason yesterday, an appalling desire had grown in me for a Sussex Yeoman burger which just the sight of Lorraine triggered. Lorraine had something altogether more sensible, and I quaffed a brace of cold beers. It's the heat you know.

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