Yesterday, after twenty-six years of occupancy, the good lady and I signed the missives for the sale of Son of the Rock Towers. It was put on the market at the end of June and we accepted an offer in early January.

It’s just as well I photographed the sign when I did as the estate agents (I assume) whipped it away sometime on Friday evening when it was dark.

What this news means, of course, is we’ll have to find another house to live in.

So far the search for a new home has proved almost as frustrating as the process of trying to sell this one was.