Weeza’s family moved house this weekend. It seems to have gone pretty well, though they still have some stuff to clear from the old house, which they will let out in future. I’ve said I will go and look after the children for a couple of days once I’m home, to give Weeza a clear run. We will also, apparently, be looking after Rupert the spaniel, so I may take him with me. It seems that it won’t take long for me to get back into the swing of things once I’m back. Not that I’m quite ready to let go of my holiday yet. It was quite difficult to start to unwind, with all the anxiety about Russell’s accident, but I managed it at last, though I sleep little better than I do at home.
One mystery has been solved, though. I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I’d been sent a present and the package had a Sheffield postcode on it. I had an email today from someone I haven’t seen for several years – he’s only a couple of weeks younger than I am, I think his birthday is tomorrow, and he remember mine and sent me something. Wasn’t that sweet of him? I had been going to write and say thank you, addressing the letter from the postcode, which I’d looked up online, though I’d run out of time to do it before I left. My friend used to live in Yagnub, I don’t know if he’s moved away – well, I assume he has: that is, I didn’t know he had. I’ve emailed back, of course.
Bedtime, I think. Goodnight, darlings.