Moving house: ten bankers' boxes, the boxes they came in and the box the boxes came in are all going to be useful.The pink boxes on the left are still unpacked from the previous move, as I never got round to putting up bookshelves. They and several others became the base for the wooden board which had to serve instead.
I fear that I am becoming an urban nomad, with an ever-growing train of boxes of books to be stacked at each caravanserai, until I die and the boxes go to the tip.
The thought occurs that I could put down roots of a sort, and use the boxes to start my own shanty town in the car park of my current flat.
2 comments:
Heh! yer alive! I guess this lock down thing has a plus side if it means I can read your loony bloggy stuff again.
Sounds lucky that you managed to arrange a move before the world went loony, couple of other people I know have had to give up for the time being.
All my social/volunteer things have halted so keep meaning to do a bit more blogging meself, I think of odd ideas and never get round to it. Spending me time doing silly things like making a temporary storage unit out of old bits of greenhouse or adding things to my walk mapping app etc.
Landlord sold the flat just as this thing was kicking off, perfect comedy timing. I think of odd ideas too, and they end up in the landfill that is Nobody's Friend, home to the half-baked and stray. Vaya con Dios!
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