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Has it really been a month since I came back from India? Various sicknesses and ordeals have shadowed the past few weeks to such an extent that I haven’t felt like blogging. I may get around to gradually filling in the gaps, just as I may eventually get around to writing about India!

Where to start? Here I am, sitting at my desk in what’s meant to be my home, but I feel as if I’ve just dragged all my stuff into a hotel room.

The move itself was utterly miserable, took forever and cost me a fortune.

The charity shop came round to look at my (perfectly serviceable) excess furniture and decided they didn’t want it – one hour before the van was due. I was still stuffing clothes into bin liners fifteen minutes before the van was due. I had so much stuff even after my mass junking that I had to pay for two and a half hours of overtime – plus the removal men’s dinner break in Hesburger! The cleaning firm I hired didn’t do a very good job, the new owners complained, and I had to go back and de-cat piss the bathroom.

Autumn with its work and theatre commitments is now in full swing, but my moving house to-do list is still overflowing with little household tweaks that I ought to see to before it’s too late. (In over four years in the old place, I never got around to putting up the bathroom mirror.) I now have three huge windows at ground level, no curtains and – after decades of living high up – a habit of wandering around with little or nothing on.