Ch..Ch..Changes

Change, round here, is nothing new. I crave sameness. I crave waking up in a bed that's mine and I know I'll be sleeping in again that night, to go down to a kitchen that is truly mine and will be the place where I eat my breakfast for the next few months at least.

Until that day arrives (June? July?), I don't think it's unreasonable to want to know where I'm going to be next Monday night, and the Monday after that. As you can probably guess, the Mairie and notaire are not helping me with this quandry today. Maybe on Monday I'll be allowed to know if we have to be out of our house 7 days later. Grumble grumble.

Mr B arrived back this evening after a heroic drive from London in a van that maxes out at 60mph (downhill). This drive included an unnecessarily unpleasant night's 'sleep' in an aire near Dijon. The kids were expecting him tomorrow so had a lovely surprise, and so did I with another change in my life: my old Lowepro backpack camera bag has done sterling service, but will now be retired from active daily life. It will still come on hiking trips, but the new sexy Crumpler will take the strain for the mundane days.

(The safety pins hold together a fatally bust zip, bust from the pressure of two years of carrying Conor's emergency antihistamine and adrenaline kit as well as the usual camera stuff. It gives the bag a satisfyingly punk look, but does allow small items like lens caps to slide out.)