Last one out
On Sunday I borrowed my brother-in-law's estate, and drove back to Lytham to my old house to clear out the last of my tat, and give the keys back to the landlord.
The driving up was fine, I spent about six hours doing all the housework I'd neglected over the last four years, and then some.
I stayed on the floor Sunday night, and got only a couple of hours sleep - the dust seemed to make my nose block, and I'd had a large pizza and kept dreaming that Madeleine and Gabriel and the mice off the mouse organ were the Spanish Inquisition, trying to get Professor Yaffle to recant his Judaism, with the mice in hoods and dancing like the KKK in O Brother Where Art Thou .
It was not a good night's sleep.
On Monday I finished packing up, taking a couple of loads to the tip, gave back the keys and drove back to my sister's, had some toast and a cup of tea, picked up my car and my brother-in-law and I drove to Newport and unloaded.
As of midnight today, I'm no longer renting a house in Lytham.
This is a good thing.