Order, Order

My phone, which is on the way to being wholly fucked, keeps chirruping like a hungry bird.  The battery disconnects while charging, approximately every ten seconds, hence the hungry chirrup.  I hope it will hold out until the UK as there simply isn't time to get a new phone.

I have, I think, packed 25 boxes.  You would not think it to look around the place, but it is some comfort to know I've probably got only another ten to do.  The calendar is against me as there is a sinus operation (minor) booked for 17 July and after that I'll be unable to lift things for a while.  And then to Paris to see my new grandson.  To say that his birth has brought light into my heart is an understatement.  The longing to hold him and be part of his life is stronger than ever I could have thought. 

My daughter had a horribly long, horribly painful labour and I am so proud of her, and relieved that all is well.   Childbirth is an everyday thing but when it is your own flesh going through it, it doesn't seem like that. 

The only other news is that I did not get the job I went for.  This knocked me on my arse a bit.  Well, really quite a lot.  I will get something, but to be turned down by the place I really wanted to work is very sobering.

Packing beckons.  It doesn't really, but putting things mindlessly in boxes is surprisingly calming.  Order from disorder.  Order from ordure.