And so, I’m sitting in the office. My desk is somewhere between Isla’s crib and one of the bookcases. I kinda like that. Symbolism. Or something. We moved up here with more than 17 boxes of books. Yesterday was spent emptying them into the bookcases. In the old flat, I knew them so well, I almost didn’t see them. Favourites and doorstops, old schoolbooks I can’t part with. Those have been moved to the loft. What I’m looking at now…
