So Witney, so Wit-far

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?

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