Might Not Even Be Remembered.

It's March, which is autumn, but the weather hasn't turned yet. It's still hot and summery and uncomfortable. Today was well into the 30s, which is unbearable when you're working on the house to get it ready for sale. The big move to the UK is only a few months away, and the house needs to go on the market this week.

I had no idea how much work is deemed necessary these days in order to make the house sellable.

But we march steadily towards the UK.

I was informed on Friday that I was now qualified and registered to teach in England. I've accidentally networked a connection to a school near Lincoln. And I've copped a number of negative comments from people about the move.

So you had a bad experience teaching at your school? I won't be at your school.

So the weather's awful? I'm looking forward to it. I hate the hot weather here.

So English food/water/service is terrible? When were you there? The 1850s? I've had nothing but exceptional food/water/service in the past ten years.

I don't need naysayers on the sidecar of my motorcycle. I'm sliding around corners, running a few red lights, skidding into the driveway.