We’ve moved. We have no web access at home—the Silence of the Beds ought to have told you all that—but we’ve moved. We’re in Witney. Cosy, cutesy, quiet Witney with its shires-regulation Waitrose and the slice-through of an A-road. Work a half-hour’s cycle ride away and a local Tesco awfulness that’s at least open till 11pm.
Are we happy? Yes, we’re happy. Are we content? No, we’re not content. The old house is still a mess, and our landlord seems to think that the expensive keys we had cut (over £20 for two security keys) are automatically his property; he may also be trying (he never trims his e-mails, as you may have noticed) to claim our old dining-room table as his own. Given his idea of “furnished” is as minimal as you can get, I wonder why he’s bothering. Can’t people eat off the floor?