So sad to say goodbye to my crockery (see it here), but not forever I remind myself under my breath, not forever.

Isn’t Sunday the most depressing day. This Sunday especially. Started packing, disappointing pasta from $11 worth of squidgy mush prawns. Not many Sundays left here now, thankfully.

Gumbo, cornbread, lonesome guitar. Happy birthday Poppy, it was a fantastic party. Too busy to take photographs, though there were some lovely scenes. Most uncapturable, though. Like when three friendly helpers realised that last time they were together they all had boyfriends. Now we are all single.

More box gathering, failing at being productive, apple and honey. L’shana tovah!

Jitters, fear, fright, worry, worriment. Why am I doing this when I could stay in my comfortable little nest with all of my things, old and ragged, but all mine. Today I’m feeling the opposite of a sense of adventure. I’m imagining plane crashes, theivery and food poisoning - worst of all.