Moving Day

So we are in. Our new home is pretty lovely despite the previous owners penchant for magnolia and beige carpets. Sunlight pours through the windows and we have a resident Robin that P has named Sven.

Moving Day was on the wettest day of the year. Rain poured sideways for hours. Not ideal for the removal men. We’d paid for packers which I can highly recommend – I think we’d still be packing now four weeks later if we’d had to do it ourselves. We have far too much stuff.

I didn’t have much time to get emotional. We were too busy and scared to look around fondly with a tear in our eyes. For me the tears I cried were when we had officially scold our house but not bought the other one. I had visions of having to turn up in Spalding homeless.

But it worked eventually once the our vendors solicitors had bothered to return from lunch. By 7 we were surrounded by boxes eating fish and chips.

The kids had arrived home from school amidst the chaos and really weren’t sure. There were a few wobbles – but all was fixed in the morning when they realised how short their trip to school was. That and chocolate spread on toast.

We’ve been here nearly a month now. We’ve hardly made a dent on the magnolia and haven’t worked out how to clean the flooring. Some windows have curtains, many don’t. Pictures have been hung and some have already fallen off and need new frames. we’ve emptied boxes like it was an Olympic sport and been to the tip lots of times. We’ve started to explore the local pubs and the scenery on our doorsteps.

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Do I miss our old home? Yes of course. It’s hard to leave behind  somewhere you’ve spent 14 of the best of years of your life without feeling sad. I miss it and I also miss the Calor Gas bottle and the ladder that we accidentally left behind.

But I’m sitting here ,with the sun on my face and Sven bobbing about outside the window, looking forward. This is a lovely new home. Time to make some more memories. And probably time to put some more curtains up.

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