Forward progress… slow but steady… I begin to believe I may make it to the bottom of the last box and bag, and I may get my inheritance, or a good proportion of it, in the relatively near future, too. I might even be able, by the middle of next week perhaps, to do something other than go home, have some food and then settle down with a box of stuff and try to work out where to put it. I definitely need a new bookcase, though, as all my previous digs since I moved to London have had reasonably big ones and the shelves here are fairly small (although deep – I can put all my old diaries safely into the back of the shelf hidden behind other stuff!). At present I’m going to have to put most of my books and dvds in boxes against the wall, and wait on finding a bookshelf. Freecycle here I come, I think… Or there’s a wonderful second-hand furniture and house-clearance shop on Northfields Avenue, which I might try. I want to do some painting and some writing and some sewing, and I don’t feel able to until my home is actually fully habitable.

And for your info, that picture at the top is A) not my bookcase B) a damned sight tidier than my book situation at present, indeed than the whole west wall of my room at present!

The inheritance situation is that I gave up on trying to get any sense out of the solicitors acting for the trustees, who veered between lackadaisical casualness and surly near-hostility, and were really wearing me down. I got a solicitor of my own. He’s an old college friend of my elder brother, and is happy to wait to be paid until I get the money. I haven’t met him for years, and recall him only vaguely as short, rather scruffy, cheerful, and totally normal (all of which which I’m sorry to say I’d never expected someone training as a solicitor to be!! - shame on me). He’s been wonderfully professional and supportive, and is getting things moving at lightening rate. If he weren’t married I’d be getting ideas…

This is probably really bad form of me, but: If you want really pleasant, professional, friendly and efficient solicitors, I’d recommend the firm of Bradley Saul in Chipping Norton heartily; and I’d urge you with equal heartiness not to bother using the other firm, who I won’t name here as it might be libellous – but I’ll be happy to tell you in person if you are interested!

Knackered Dent

I am moved. I am knackered. I am about 1/3 unpacked and 2/3 chaos. I have my life lying about me in cardboard boxes; antiquated laptop, stack of canvases, pint glass collection, bag of old socks for cushion stuffing, old Uncle Tom Cobbly and all... But I am moved, and am now ensconced in Turnham Green (well, right now I'm at work at Kew, typing this on my office computer after hours, but you get my drift). I am moved. It's done.

My wonderful brother Stephen helped me move, coming all the way from Bath to do so. He was a rock, too, while I was a hysterical wreck. He drove back and forth patiently, did all the heavy lifting, and talked common sense to me whenever I started to wail and wave my hands in the air. We worked pretty much non-stop from 1pm to 1am the following morning; then he had a cup of strong coffee and some soup and drove home to Bath again. I don't know how I'd've coped without him. He's an amazing bloke and I love him to bits, and I'm a very lucky woman to have him for a brother.

He also put me in touch with an old university friend who became a solicitor, so I can put the messy business of my late godmother's will and the Trust fund and Cousin Pearl's estate into Geoff's capable hands and forget about it.

Feeling very relieved and very, very tired.

More another day. Going home now to empty a few more boxes. Have a good evening, all...