One thing I've never understood about going away is how all the little jobs that never seem to get done become terribly important.
We probably don't need to stay at home for more than a week a year to organise everything we need to do to keep things running smoothly if the past week is anything to go by.
Yesterday I managed to fit two cars into the garage for the first time in six months. That is probably more of an admission of defeat than a cry of victory though, as I'd co-opted the space taken up by the second to use for for my own particular purposes. Perhaps if I'd concentrated more on trying to sell the blue one, I wouldn't have had to do quite so much tidying up.
The other thing that seems to happen with the regularity of clockwork, is the visit from friends who have been absent for years, right in the middle of the packing cleaning frenzy. Today was no different, and if it hadn't been for our rather conservative two day clean up schedule, we might even have started to panic a bit as the second hour of rumination ticked past.
A chat is always more important than a cleanup anyway.
If an old friend had turned up wanting to buy a blue car, we could have had a doubly wonderful time and we would have had less tidying to do to boot.
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