Till next year

And then we were packing once more.  The last few days particularly have disappeared in a whirl of meeting up with friends, family, supporters and all manner of people old and new.  I have a year’s supply of clothes courtesy of Baldock’s charity shops.  My kid has a year’s supply of clothes courtesy of his cousin.  My parents have a year’s supply of jam courtesy of the many blackberries ripening a minute’s walk from their house; Joni and I and the dog spent a happy couple of hours collecting and jamming them this afternoon.  I expect I could have gathered more without my two trusty helpers, but we have more than sufficient and it was fun.  There are also two bucket loads of greengages waiting for something to be done with them (more jam?) following my expedition up the greengage tree yesterday morning.  We’ve watched model trains whizzing by at Bekonscot model village:

Joni and friend riding train

and giant butterflies whizzing by in a glass house in Bedfordshire (while the rain hammered on the roof outside):

butterfly on stalk

It’s been good, and now it’s gone, but we’re quietly bullish about some of the plans that we hope are coming to fruition in San Francisco even as we speak, so we’re optimistic about the next steps.  Unfortunately there are two nights of travelling between here and there, and even before that, the stuff which hasn’t packed itself yet appears to be liberally scattered about the house. I feel some gathering up coming on. 

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