Today is moving day, when Ken and Jen move into the new nest we’ve been preparing. The removalists are due at Jen’s place at 7am, and at my joint some indeterminate time later to move the piano and the rest of my worldly goods for the third time in 12 months (aaagh).
I’ll probably be mostly off the air (in several senses) until Monday, because that great customer-focused company Telstra claims it can’t accept bookings for “re-activation” of your ADSL Internet connection until the phone is actually connected at your new address, and then there’ a delay of up to 72 (business) hours. Fortunately Mark and Sophie especially are blogging at an impressive rate, so I won’t be missed. With any sort of luck, Scott will find time to monitor and delete the steady stream of comment spam while I’m off-air (unless he and Jacques succeed in installing the Turing Code, in which case our problems with spam may be solved in any event).
Anyway, back to the packing.
Moving? My deepest commisserations.
I just think the whole process of packing and moving stuff about is akin to going to the dentist without anaesthetic. I hate it.
Heh. I went to the dentist without anaesthetic yesterday.
Good luck with the move Ken (and Jen).
I wondered why Jen has gone quiet.
Roll on domestic bliss. And good luck.
Yep – all the best, Ken and jen! I’ve always wondered why I tend to move in Summer – often on 38+ days – carting boxes and furniture in the sun and humidity ain’t fun – hope the weather’s not too evil in Darwin!