I Spy Something Beginning with CH...

That'll be CHAOS!
And if you squeeze his hand there will be no 'fun phrases' I can tell you.

Tempers are getting a little frayed today as we pile up furniture and rugs for the arrival of daughter #5's removal van from West Yorkshire tomorrow morning. Once that has been loaded and has left, we might just see the beginning of the end.
But at the moment I am sitting on a soon to disappear settee, on bare boards, surrounded by boxes and stacked furniture and a million to-do lists playing on a loop round my brain

The logistics of the next few days have been typed out by his Lordship in duplicate, lest we forget what is happening. He obviously missed the profession of being a sergeant major. As such I would have loved to have squeezed his hand and heard his fun phrases.

Meanwhile we have removed all the pictures from the walls and they now stand in serried ranks awaiting a decision as to what to do with them. This leaves the walls with an random ironmongery of picture hooks, the removal of which will be next on the list.

When I came to empty the linen cupboard, at the very back I came across a box of greeting cards I received on the births of all the children, and also the newspapers that had the notifications of their births.
This was in an age when such things were put in the local papers. Nowadays few people bother and certainly only one of my grandchildren made the Hatches, Matches and Dispatches column.
I suppose the advent of the internet has made this practice superfluous.

So now his Lordship can indulge his arsonist tendencies with another bonfire to devour all my hoarded nostalgia. All we need are a few fireworks and some music and we could have our very own firework finale.