Well now. It has been some time since I have been round these parts. This is on account of us shoving all our worldlies into boxes and bags and shuffling our way up a couple of motorways.
The movers arrived at 7.10am on a bitterly cold January morning a few weeks ago to haul all our
collectables... vintage...old lady toot down the 3 flights of stairs. They worked harder than I have ever seen any one work before and within a few short hours, we were waving them off and telling them that we would see them on the flip side.
A frantic cleaning of our empty, very echoey home, a quick stuffing of felines into carriers and a car load of belongings - that seemed to of humped and multiplied (where did all that junk come from? why had we not given it to the movers?) - later and we were North-bound.
Not too far North - in fact, some would say not North by 'arf - and we arrived at our new home. Our new house. With it's own garden (that is quickly becoming full of herbs, wildflowers and roses in my minds eye). With it's own front door sans knocker (I need to get that sorted.) With it's very own wooden hill for us to climb to bed (oh the novelty). All these things belong to our new century old abode. It is rocking our socks off.
After lots of planning and thinking, wishing and hoping, arguments and assertivness, it is finally ours. A home to unpack and remake. New places for things and frustration at not being able to find them again. Items that, although important to us, may very well remain boxes and in the outhouse for some years to come. Sometimes, it can be that one box that pushes you over the edge and makes you twitch. Out of sight, out of mind.
I shall share all of it with you as soon as I find the batteries & charger for my camera. The picture snapper itself was crammed into the car with me. The things that make it work? Not so much.
Perhaps they are languishing in one of those boxes in the in the outhouse.