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18 February 2012 (Saturday) - House Move, Curry

Two more dead Koi this morning. What on Earth is wrong in the pond? It's not as though the fish are in need of food - they don't seem hungry at all. I wonder if it something to do with the cold snap a week or so ago after a very mild winter.
The Rear Admiral arrived and we set off to find Chip. Regular readers of this drivel may recall an entry from October 2010 when we helped Chip move to a second storey flat. We nearly killed ourselves lugging no end of gear across town and up flights of stairs. At the time I told him that he was never to move out of that flat - moving in was too much like hard work.
So despite my better judgement, today I found myself helping him move house again. All the heavy, awkward, bulky items I'd heaved up all of those flights of stairs had to be heaved back down those same stairs, back into a van, and driven to the aptly named Queen's Street. Most of the stuff survived the move, but one of the wardrobes did look a little the worse for wear by the time I'd done my thing with it. I offered to repair the thing with a hammer; perhaps making good the scrapes I'd made in the paintwork might be a better thing to do.
It has to be said that I noseyed round his new house with more than a tad of jealousy. It's a wonderful house on four floors with a wonderful attic room and an even better basement suite. Bearing in mind his previous houses, there seems to be a marked absence of toilets. But what he lacks in cludgies this time, he more than makes up with stairs.

For some reason we were amazingly organised today. Previous house moves have dragged on all day long. Sometimes they have taken a whole weekend. Today we had two loads to lug down stairs, across town and up stairs again. And even taking the best part of an hour for a very leisurely lunch (yum!) we were all done by early afternoon.
And so home, where I spend several hours working on a Powerpoint presentation and a web site. I have to prepare a presentation that will take ten minutes to deliver. Am I being that facetious when I say that every minute of a presentation requires an hour of preparation?

Whilst I did my thing upstairs, the Bat did his thing in the kitchen. He'd been wanting to stage a dinner party for some time, but lacking the wherewithal he'd asked to borrow mine. I was quite content to have someone cook me my dinner and let him get on with it. And once dinner was cooked, nine of us sat down to some really good curries. A really good time was had by all. We must do it again sometime soon...

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