And packing and packing then some more, packing.
Covered in dirt and breathing in and through our collections of past eight years of dust, it is not that fun. Wrapping up plates and glasses with my precious Sunday Times, I am observing every inch of their past articles through my body making my subscription worthwhile, quite literally. The reminiscence of our historic items of clutter hits us hard on the head, which makes us realise we, perhaps, were totally deluded thinking we were junk free.
Who knows why I kept the pair of trainers that had its backs almost disintegrated. Who knows why those endless piles of magazines were dominating underneath of our coffee table.
I wonder of all things past and look around.
Packing our belongs for new home, I am unpacking our past. History of our seven and a half years of time together in this little flat that we called home, sweet home.
Would this place be just as good home to the next person in charge?
Tangy Lemon Tart
Apologies to dear readers. I concentrated on packing so much I have packed my recipe book.
Sorry everyone. I'll update it with the recipe soon as I unpack.
Almost, all set.