Threshold passed

For the last time, Gail closed the door on Newhouse. Hereinafter known as the old house.

More accurately, it was the second-to-last time because she’d forgotten to take the lock off the snib.

I remark to George that it’s all been too frantic for us to feel emotional about leaving. He agrees.

Drop off keys, pick up keys, get to the new place then the guys start bringing in the stuff. So much stuff.

Very much a quart-into-pint-pot situation.

Get the beds in, have a Chinese takeaway in the garden then off to bed.