Unpacking is just as depressing as the packing was.   Maybe more so because this time it disturbs my equanimity.  Last time I had no equanimity to disturb.

A few things were broken.  I care curiously little.  In fact for the most part I see a only pile of shite that I don’t need, and very few things I really want.  Now that it is here, and I have started unpacking, I feel like just packing most of it up again, and putting it out for the needy.

I am pleased to have all my photography gear at last.  And I am looking forward to some good, loud music.  I have no neighbours on the weekend.  Or even in the week really, when the child health clinic at the front is not in use.  Next door on one side is an aluminium door and glazing company, on the other the Volunteer Fire and Emergency Rescue station.

I just hope the clothes I shipped over are actually useable.

And that is all I have to say about that.

About Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
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