The perfect storm

There's a storm coming in off the Atlantic today, which means that it's breezy, raining, and far too dark to take any decent photos of the clah-poo-tee for blogging with. Such is the nature of the Irish summer, I am afraid.

The weekend has been great so far, if manically busy.
On Friday, we attended the wedding of two of our friends, Eamon (aka Kindermord) and Lizzy. It was fantabulous, and much fun (and wine) was had by all. As a direct result, yesterday morning involved a very long lie in, followed by an artery clogging breakfast that would make most vegetarians swoon. We had tea and jam (jelly) doughnuts on the train, and arrived home for nothing more strenuous than watching Doctor Who and getting a repeat done on the clap.

Today, we're back in the swing of things in Belfast. Packing, packing and more packing. We are, for once, being very strict on ourselves in the decluttering and dumping of stuff, which will make life much easier when it comes to squashing it all into the back of a transit van.

To be honest, I'm mostly out of steam now. OH will get more done while I work and issue orders from the spare room tomorrow, and then we've got the first bunch of people coming to view the place tomorrow evening. Argh. I am on full cobweb alert.

I hate moving house, and I'm really going to miss this place when we leave. Belfast, that is.

Time waits for no man, eh?