Cal­gon take me away

Well, it’s T minus 12 till our depar­ture to Lon­don, armed with four cats, a nine-year-old child and god knows how many books. Of course this would be hap­pen­ing at Christ­mas time, so we’ve also got to con­tend with a Christ­mas tree in the Jay Street apart­ment, shed­ding thou­sands of nee­dles for the movers doubt­less to pack up and take with them (I remem­ber receiv­ing our kitchen garbage neat­ly pack­aged up when we arrived in New York from our last Lon­don sojourn; these men mean it when they say you leave it, we pack it). And I just found out that Mail­box­es, Etc. sent my par­ents’ presents to Cathy Suss­man in Min­neapo­lis and vice ver­sa. Be grate­ful for small mir­a­cles I guess, that they at least exchanged them and did­n’t send them each to ran­dom peo­ple in Montana.

Avery informed me this morn­ing that she feels “quite small.” “Well, how do you nor­mal­ly feel?” I asked. “The size of a nor­mal Avery, but now I feel quite small and out of con­trol.” Wel­come to our world.

More when we have news…