The Last Day. And Night.

Much to do! Whilst I was toiling away and pining for distant hills with their dusting of snow, the flat was being packed. And a sofa was being unpacked at the fisherman's cottage. Unfortunately it was so large, or maybe the door was so small, that it wouldn't go in. It eventually did - via the garden slope and with the removal of its tiny legs. What drama. Meanwhile, I was getting to grips with Ironport and Infracast. Such names.
Later there was so little for me to do that I sallied out for a meet up and blether with L and others. Still no MrT.
And returning home for the last time on my bike, I got the last white pudding in the chip shop. Sustenance for the morn!