Paul is optimistic that the removal men will be able to waltz in on Friday, finish off the packing, whisk everything into the back of a truck, and have all our belongings spirited away in no time at all.
I, as usual, am less optimistic.
I keep looking around the house (and especially in the Shed) and seeing the mountains of things still not in boxes. And the mountains of boxes without lids, or labels, and insecurely taped.
These books are deliberately not in boxes, as they’re the ones I think I’l most need while all the others are packed away.
(Yes, the coloured pencils will be going into the same bag!)