weekends are too short ...

 where to begin?

Some mornings King Charles and I have coffee in the rear gardens.

Eventually I want to put a proper firepit there.

The other morning, he wanted to be rocked like a baby on the front porch, but he didn't want to pose for a selfie.

Moving had become a slow, day-to-day process that I finally finished Monday evening.  My knee can only take going up and down the stairs before it starts to swell, and then I'm done for the day.

I've driven more in the month of July than I have in the previous four years.

Even slower than the packing to move out has been the unpacking process.

But I do have something hung on a wall, so that is progress

At the end of the day, it still feels good to be home.