Friday September 1, 2006
I’m keeping a close eye on the weather now, hoping for a dry day on Wednesday. Don’t care if it’s cold or hot, I just want it to be dry. A house full of cardboard boxes is tolerable—they can be tackled in a methodical fashion, with no great urgency. A house full of damp cardboard boxes is another matter entirely—there’s a pressing need for them to be unpacked as quickly as possible to avoid damage to the contents.
It looks quite promising for dry. A band of rain is forecast for the weekend and Monday, closely followed by an area of high pressure that might just give us a few days of dry, settled weather. All we can do is wait and see.
I’ve called a halt to laundry operations here at the holiday camp. There are more than enough clean clothes to see us through to moving day and beyond; I’m bagging up the remainder of the heap we’ve accumulated in the caravan and shall transport it to the house ready to be washed and dried in our own machines as soon as they’re delivered and connected. I’ve spent far too much of my life sitting in laundromats, waiting for laundry machines to finish.
There isn’t too much stuff here in the caravan that’ll need to be schlepped over to the house before moving day. Graham will carry on living here until sometime towards the end of next month, and then intermittently through to the New Year as the holiday camp programme demands, so we need to leave enough here for his comfortable living.
“You’re planning again,” Graham said, catching me in the middle of a big think session.
“So you should be.”