We are, after a very tiring day of cleaning, out of the Dublin house. It took longer than we hoped, but it’s clean and we’re out, so that’s that. Done and dusted. The woman at the post office, the guy at the corner shop, and various others all expressed surprise and dismay that we were moving away, generally couched in terms of a horrified, “*Drogheda*?” followed by, “Oh, well, that’s not so bad,” when informed that Ted works in Swords which isn’t too bad a drive from Drogheda. So we’re…
So I was doing okay until I almost set the kitchen on fire. Our stovetop dials turn very easily. Something got pushed against one and it turned on, which normally isn’t a problem because the power to the stovetop is controlled by a wall switch that we leave set to off. But I turned the wall switch on so I could cook something in the oven, and I didn’t notice that beneath the stuff on the stove a burner was on. (yes, I know, NEVER PUT ANYTHING ON TOP OF…
The movers called at 10 and said they were running about half an hour late. They arrived and began work at half ten, worked with admirable and somewhat depressing speed (it took them SO LITTLE time to pack up a giant room full of book boxes that had taken me weeks to fill), threw the last things we hadn’t quite managed to get into boxes, into boxes, got everything including the trees and the barbeque into the truck, and hied themselves off to Drogheda where they got lost trying to…
Less than that even, now. The movers are coming in 12 hours. Actually less, or they’d better be. Things are more or less packed, with the emphasis on more. As Ted said, at this point it’s almost impossible to see the forest for the trees. It’s hard to tell what’s unpacked anymore because there are boxes all over the damn place. We’re all very tired. Poor Indy is high strung with excited nerves and exhaustion. Ted and I are just exhausted. We keep saying, “It’s only Monday,” with disbelieving horror.…
Me: Can I beguile you with some cake? Visiting friend: Oh, no thank you, I’m more a brownies kind of pers–is that German chocolate cake? LET ME RECONSIDER MY HASTY DECISION Friend, later: As is always the case with everything that Catie bakes, IT WAS THE BEST GERMAN CHOCOLATE CAKE I HAVE EVER HAD. Me: I’d say you flatter me, but it’s probably also true. :) *** Delivery fella just dropped off a big box of stuff. “Big boxes are usually for men,” he said, “plastic bags with dresses, things…