First week, work. Second week, reaction. Then, this last weekend, a removal of furniture: drive van to Bath, Saturday; drive van back from Bath, Sunday. Enough of a break for a re-set. First weekend - everybody leaving, and left feeling unbalanced, as if unaccustomed to the additional space. Second weekend - more like completion.
I wonder how much of that makes sense. Big purge of rubbish to the end of the road first thing this morning, in the dark, then the <school run> up to meet the bus in a purple-grey morning twilight, red on the horizon and hidden in the clouds. Haven't felt like seeing anybody, and still don't; the evidence suggests that this is a dark time, although every end contains a beginning.