The unpacking continueth

Well, the house is mostly done - and relatively little is broken - If you don't include our new one legged dining-room table. Most other tables with a single leg don't have them at the corner. Glass, a soapstone carving, some handles and a leg off the stove. Now we see how honest the insurers are. I'll let you know. The other matter of some mild concern is the contents of the two drawers under the kettle, now that we have discovered the rest of B's computer in the wooden kist that holds board-games. (Yes, we play those.) It's mildly worrying as other than the can-opener, the pestle, and some mixing spoons and measures, I can remember what was in there. Nothing that immediately jumps out at me so it can't have been the jack-in-the box. We've finished all of the boxes so all that is left is in a few of the pieces of furniture in the shed...

So that is for the morrow. And then attempting to re-assemble the computers -- drat the fact that they only arrived as the last boy-geek-computer wizard left.

unpacking

It's not like Christmas. More like a blend of hay-fever nostalgia wtf (including "what the hell is it?" moments, "why the hades did they pack that?" and of course mystification at the packers (who to be fair are Zulu - to whom many of our ideas of precious are bizarre, and who regard things we think of as ordinary as special - An old Royal Doulton meat platter packed in a single sheet of paper, in with a bunch of metal things (survived) and the cheap 'use every day' porridge bowl in six layers of paper and packed carefully with plastics in a box labeled 'fragile'. And isn't it odd - the boxes you open are always the ones that have the really useful stuff that you need right now (not)?

Ah well, onward. Sneezing the dust of Africa. Some things are broken. That's life I guess. And now to re-assemble my computer (fear).