My grandmother asks me about D's journey home, because she's wondering how we're going to fit all our LA and DC belongings into what's "already a very well-furnished house." (Subtext: It's filled with her belongings. Sidebar: Did you know that my Bracknellian grandmother mostly collected antiques that conceal chamber pots inside them? True story.)
"Well," I say, "you have to remember that, because of the stairs, you only saw a little less than half of Farfara. There are two rooms on the upper floor that have almost nothing inside them."
"Hmm," she replies, "Well, you're coming here on Valentine's Day. That's a good plan."
"I think it's very romantic."
She lets out a cynic's sigh (I'm reluctant to call it a snort): "That's not the word I'd use, but I suppose so."