Well, tomorrow I leave this lovely house and all the good people. I went for a last swim in the College pool this morning, cycling along Kingsgate Street as I have done for the last fifty five years. I reckon I might have swum to America and back in all those lengths (well France anyway)  I have been hugged and kissed by the most unlikely people, who have all assured me that will very soon turn up in Ditchling. That will be nice as long as they don`t all come at once.  The leaving parties were embarrassingly well attended in spite of my fears, and the sun shone on a garden filled with tulips and bluebells.
The car is filled to the gunnells with objects gathered up  around the house: wellingon boots, music I will never play, Quaker marmalade, ancient rusty baking tins, and also a large acer tree given as a present which will tickle the back of my neck all the way to Ditchling. I must not forget to pack Daphne the cat who is wandering around the house well aware that Somehing Is Up.  The bike and cello have been farmed out for others to take.  I will change the name of this blog when I get there as alas I have no Aga, it should come up as Ditchling Daze but I am not sure where.  Dear J tried to organise it for me. I may have to get the grand daughters on to it in Brighton.
I wonder how I will feel when I set off early tomorrow?

From the 1st May I can be found at Ditchling Daze.