After two days of silence from the house removalists, we have a new date scheduled. No florid guarantees this time, just what seems like grim determination on their part and ours. Friday the 22nd is the day – I have no confidence in this sixth rescheduling, but perhaps there may be a house here that morning.
We are now into a week crammed with a family birthday with associated festivities; full floors with sister and mother visiting from Taiwan and Sydney respectively and special activities at school. Perhaps in an ominous sign, Blithe Boy christened the sofas (and incidentally me) with the contents of his stomach today. I can only hope it is not the precursor of one of those waves of contagious illness that sweeps violently through the school and then one by one through the family.
On the positive side, this week is our fifth anniversary of living in the Rosewood Scrub. No celebrations are planned other than perhaps the house arriving. But what more do we need?