… came around today. Not the Saint in person, but some members of his charitable association. They took away the stuff that the Troc didn’t want and which hadn’t sold on the internet. They were quite pleased with what they had won, which made me quite happy because I was quite pleased to let them have it. I did ask them what Vincent’s sister Lynsey was up to these days but that went clean over their heads. No sense of humour, these Belgians.
It had taken me all morning to sort out the stuff for them and make sure that it was properly packed and boxed – we don’t want all of the stuff falling out all over the place and down the stairs. And now at least the place is looking a little emptier now and I can start to move things around and try to sort out the cleaning. It isn’t that easy when the place is overwhelmed with all kinds of stuff.
Now that I have nowhere to sit I’ve had to make a little kind-of studio in the smallest bedroom. Sitting on the bed and a plant across a box on top of the coffee table to make a raised table. But that was not without its problems either. I didn’t realise that the coffee table had a drawer in it until I turned it on its side to pass it through the door into the bedroom.And there was I in barefeet too. I’ve done myself a serious mischief now – toenail all broken and the big toe all various shades of red and black and I’m in agony with this.
I’ve also been down in the cellar. The wardrobe out of here needs to go and so the cellar needs to be emptied. Having seen the hoops that one has to go through in order to get the local council to come and take the stuff away I simply bought a pile of white sacks and spent a happy hour or two crusing up rubbish and filling the sacks. There’s a huge load of them and that will upset the concierge when he has to put them out for the bin men tomorrow morning, but that’s what he’s paid for, after all.
But at least the only thing in the cellar that doesn’t need to be there is this wardrobe, and that will hopefully be going tomorrow.