The digger boys got it stuck in the mud again today. The lawn now resembles tank training ground that has been abandoned because tanks can no longer negotiate it. On the plus side, the drains have been repaired.
I am now a legal alien (cue bad singing) in Sweden; the tax authorities, having got over their initial surprise at someone volunteering to pay tax, have registered me. This involved a trip to Oebro, about half an hour's drive away, and a trip to IKEA on the way back. I'm waiting to see exactly what it is that Sara will be arriving with on Sunday before opening an account there, but it was still interesting to see how a genuine Swedish IKEA store differs from the variety that inhabit the UK. There is no difference at all, by the way.
My office now has a plant. I had to put it together myself, but it cost a little less.
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