A productive weekend, then. Faced with a couple of months of mental busyness, we'd decided not to go to Wales this weekend, tempted as I am to see the house I was born in one more time before we leave. Not only did another weekend away seem extravagant, but the opportunity to have a relaxed weekend together was too good to pass up.
Saturday I can barely remember, such was the level of inactivity. I know there was cheese involved at some point, a light, chalky chèvre, and some ridiculously creamy brie, and possibly a slightly disappointing St-Agur. I also know there was a brilliant hour or so spent on the phone to my sister (the younger of the two), talking about our week in Manchester in December and sharing plans for the future in general.
Sunday, bar a wander down the river for lunch in Putney, was mostly spent working out the insurance value of our shipping. Seemed like a fairly innocuous task to start with, but as it turned out, working out the detail of what we were shipping, leaving and packing, and the value of it all, was actually a bit of a mission, and at points pretty traumatic. The trade-off between 'what do we think it would cost to replace it' and 'how much will it cost to insure it' isn't a pleasant thing to do at all.
Still, we got through it, and the Kiwi even managed to chuck out a whole load of clothes she's not work in years.
Tomorrow is Medical Day, which I'm not looking forwards to at all. One more thing out of the way, I suppose. And yes, in 8 weeks' time, we'll be leaving London and starting our journey over to Auckland. Not all that long, really...
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