Moving

Yes, that's right, we're getting ready to leave lovely Leg-in-Boot Square and the posh precincts of False Creek. We're heading east to the "bad" (read working class--not that anyone who's working class can afford to buy a house in this city anymore--and ethnic) part of town for a medium-term housesitting gig in a perfectly cute cottage, with a big lush garden in the front and a wee writing shack in the back. Can't say I'll miss the in-law bachelor suite we've been in since January, much as I'm grateful for the use of it.

More anon. Back to packing. Somehow I've managed to acquire a shitload of books since I've been here. How does this always happen?