Child 3 departed and the house full of child 2's packing. Scattered throughout the house of course. She disappears on gap year fun tomorrow so much busyness to hide the emotional trauma. Have we thought of everything? Visas, money, sage advice about not staying out after 11pm? All done I think. By the time she comes back we might just have tidied up the mess left in her wake.
My own inter-rail adventures seem rather feeble in comparison, just a few weeks spent on schlubby trains in Europe. But the gap-year idea hadn't really taken off then and it seems a rather splendid one to me. Work a bit, travel a bit, call for more money... Standing by for a large phone bill this end.
Meantime (if I may) it is publication day today. This is only my second and it really is a strange feeling. Here's a project you've worked on, agonised over, had sleepless nights over, had arguments over and now it is there on a shelf (hopefully) for anyone to pick up and comment on. The temptation is to go into every bookshop and check their stock. Then to stop people and ask if they've considered buying this one as opposed to that one. Really. But that way madness lies so I shall bury myself in Drivetime duties instead.
Nigel is doing a tart of some description (tarragon involved I think) and oldies please for PESSIMISTS. People who fear for the future live longer! Those with low expectations led healthier lives apparently. It's all nonsense of course but tines for pessimists might be fun. And cheery I feel.
Have a thrilling and acclamation-filled Thursday (enough already).
See you after 5.