September 29, 2013. No comments.
People say it is as stressful as divorce – which is not very helpful, and I don’t think it is. (I’ve only been ‘almost’ divorced twice – on account of only being ‘almost’ married…and it’s not as bad as that).
But it does turn you upside down and inside out in more ways than one.
For instance you become preoccupied with things like measurements, household effects, what constitutes a good cardboard box, and why the hell you have been carrying around bags of cassette tapes for most of your life.
This is when you have to get real and admit you are never going to mend that radio/wear that dress/fix that roller blind. There is no more time for fooling yourself that you are going to Itune all your CD’s, learn Portugese or take up embroidery. No, let’s face it, you are one big fat failure when it comes to ordering your photographs in a neat folder or labelling your tool boxes.
But somewhere in the dross of your sorry life treasures appear. Beautiful candlesticks that will look lovely on your new mantelpiece. And perhaps you will make smoothies again and, oh, there’s that poem, that seems more poignant today than ever. And you are rich with birthday wishes, thank you letters and song books.
It’s 12 years since I last moved house. And then it was only a few doors down the road. This time it’s a couple of villages down the road. Not exactly major life-changing, but still, quite a feat.
Please feel free to pop round and help carry heavy boxes and wardrobes and such… if not, enjoy your free time and I’ll see you on the other side! Must go, I need to get rid of all of these old magazines I haven’t read.
And to all those people for whom moving house is like: Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Here we are then, let’s crack open the bubbly…….
I will never be like you.