Well, what a few weeks.
The good news is about all that aluminium we had in the boot. Worth more than gold, that was. Once we'd found someone who knew what it was we were able to offload the entire contents of the Beaker Recycling Bin on them for a small fortune. Who said saving the planet can't make you money?
And then once we had a few quid we were away. This appears to be a parallel universe to the one we left, but the good news is that the horse-race winners were all the same. So we've taken everyone to the cleaners.
OK, we've had the odd bit of covering up and explaining to do. Not least because they're a bit of a superstitious lot down here in what I shall have to learn to call "South Wessex". And there are rumours about the "Giant Silver Toad" that has been seen in the lanes late at night. Well, they can call it that. I'll still think of it as a Porsche Cayenne. But it's just about out of petrol now. So it's going to be a few years so we can refuel it. Meantime we've hidden it in the stables of the new gaff under a few bales of hay.
Oh yeah - the new place. You know, it's amazing how quickly an estate can change hands when you've the money in readies. Well to me it will always be "Kingston Maurwood". But round here they call it "Knapwater House", or just "The Big House". That seems very familiar and comforting somehow. Although "comforting" is not how I'd describe the toilet facilities. It was nice of Miss Aldclyffe to sell up so quickly. You'd think that you'd be more attached to a big pile like this. But you know, I get the feeling she'd taken quite a shine to Daphne Hnaef. Anyway, she's gone off with a big sack of gold to live in the old Dower House. She seems quite happy.
We've kept the old staff on, of course. And the tranter, Old Reuben Dewy, is around the place the whole time doing the fetching and carrying while we get settled in. Getting on for sixty, but he's got an awful roving eye. So I'm staying well clear (and advising Mrs Hnaef to do the same).
But I'm really impressed with what Mrs Hnaef has done here. We raised a few eyebrows installing the telegraphic device. Still, they are getting quite trendy so we've just about got away with that. But somehow Daphne managed to create an IP tunnel from the telegraphic apparatus, back through some kind of residual link across the dimensions, to 21st Century Blogger. I've lost Twitter (we think this may have something to do with the Pauli Principle) but as far as Blogger goes we're off and running. Bad news for Hnaef, though. We've appointed him in charge of rich content. Any images we want to post have to be converted into binary by hand, and he's fast getting RSI.