The time has come

The countdown is over. I am sitting in my disrupted home waiting for the van. I had nightmares this night. One of those secret rooms that I suddenly discover full of forgotten things to pack. I roam the house looking for stray clothes and ashtrays. I make a point of using old chipped plate and mug that will not have the pleasure of experiencing the fresh air of Albion. I discover that I must leave a couple of teaspoons for the remaining days.

I had genuinely hoped that I’d wake up this morning and find it was all just a practical joke.

Staffan has a column in the newspaper today on the same topic. He wrote it before he left.